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Frail dust grains first loose then held shivering around any small advance laps into that shore some melt some flame tricked into the hollowed bow touched the next light caught And then left answers too numerous and full to grasp drop way back

Crawl from shell lids half shut neck born again glass sweating speechlessness of a kind face contorted by rictus as if already embalmed in the corridors of the asylum these spirits smoke Mutter tremor habits circumscribed pillowed bricks sweat