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Dorian Pimpernel Paris, France

In its pale murmur, the Moon resembles the incommunicable parts of music—words of loneliness, yet fragile and profound. Here, appearances waver and the Infinite retreats. As for what’s left behind—that, you’ll never know. But everything is on its way. You can’t listen to Dorian Pimpernel without remembering this.

Federico Nicolao
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