The focal point of a network of limitless interrelations.

XXIII. Water

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It was raining on his face. He forgot for a moment that he was a brokenheart
then he remembered. Sick lurch
downward to Geryon trapped in his own bad apple. Each morning a shock
to return to the cut soul.

(Anne Carson, Autobiography of Red)

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Written by greenseamonkeys

May 4, 2009 at 2:55 pm

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