What the wind blew in

Fire & Brook

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Loss. Illumes an immutable chasm. In a paradise of faultless profusion. If everything unwritten is true. Then periphery is exspherical to time. The chrysalis sweeping through space. Is the cathedral of convergent light. Through emptiness the exhilarant enfolds you. Its center is the empyrean evictant of new. Your eyes are down cast in its vivarium foundries. Your mind is up held by its halcyon reveries. In one kiln. In one glaze. The plenum of your city was thrown. Night. In your tent. Stands frozen. Every star. All eon. Under which you sail. Primordial. Pregnant. As a popsicle. Templed in Clear. Saturated in Sun. Citizen M. Entangled in the waterfalls. Of the spectra’s immeasurable ◎