are made of bits and stone. The world is like this. If I saw it I felt it. If I felt it I learned from it. And when the moon opens the horizon, that’s Tuesday gone. The moon the silk the corn the rail. I felt this and it stuck to me one midnight. I was mewling. I was alive with fancy and silk and stuff. I was stuffing for a chair, a doll. I was blinking and crying and. Now the word falling. Now other rains. Now organics cyclones and seeds. The deadly swoon in strength and with color and the sound of crows and

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