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107 At the junction of Gnat and God he came from Grief to make a city named Marvel. The Milkwords he spoke turned adults to children, their Minds vivid as with the scent of bananas. Beyond body, trees ushered dusk purples fast and silent: Censers gilded through Centuries like the immensity of a Minute wherein the Bee trundles from the pollen-crowned Stamen against the spathe’s white arena. MARK IRWIN WHAT YOU MIGHT SAY OF CHRIST ...

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