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83 [First Daylight] If you were a monk would it be any better? Yesterday you took your skull for a walk. Thinking about emptiness and the lottery of pain you stood in the book aisles, breathing like a broken tulip. Look, said the masters, there’s nowhere more cancerous than your arrogant heart. Well! Balling your bitter into fists like a child, you threw the last of your goodness under foot. No salt now in the May heat. No green in the summer valley. Well be near me, I’m breaking over the eastern seas. Soon you’ll be running to the edge of the city to see me leave. ...


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