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18 Even Even no god is god. How could it be otherwise? This dank leaning, this flutter up is a god. Always out of you, hail the pristine studies, enjoy the simple rain. Yearning is a god, nostalgia is a god, the door opens, and the woman coming in. There are no names for it but god. There are no signs of it that are not god. I need the name and the word of it, the day declining, the lid of night closing. The only name for it is god. ...

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