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37 The Color of Cardinals As allowing for passage through a certain kind of incandescence— things disappear—they disappear and with them, conventional itineraries, subterranean walls, passion-fruit or the unwound string, and better, the last half note of your favorite Brandenburg, or best, the weathered skin of the old men up in the hills, what they drink, what they wear around their necks, (the color of your lips) (the color of theirs) what they think or anyway, that pigment in the desert cliffs, up there toward the top and in them, nearly visible in the first blush of morning, the stunned red birds. ...

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