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Hot Bright Visionary Flies

Hot Bright Visionary Flies by Sean Borodale 'The hot lozenge lifts. Up-risings; downfalls. A ticking beyond sound. A red square of falling sun. A mass breathing, beating. A sky, studded with stones fraught with cut light. An abolished mechanics at dewdrop scale: onyx, topaz, opal. Each a dull pulsing. One day, it will stop: The air will stop; the light will stop.'

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