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64 When the Body Is Absent The light that lifts the day has fallen on beebrush, and the ghost of God, which smells so much like these pale flowers bees cross over, is everywhere in the air. The stars disappear one by one, and once again we are blind to what anchors the body: peeling bark of madrona tree, thorn of honey mesquite, purple dust of cenizo settling in dry basins as the sky opens to another shade of blue and the sun to another shade of white. ...

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