DEFINITIONS IV
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Take hold this piece of driftwood: see how quickly your sensorium inhabits this stick, this seashore; but where does it end? Does it end?
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The interminable bow’s drawn slowness: its thoroughfare whence ogham’s “go”; an alphabet of motive, stepping through different cities.
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The inquiry crumbles in your hands: the coast itself is an emphasized character; but did you ever lift up its sand; lift a shovel-full and find the green water slicing beneath it? Slicing what?
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The sentence has no exit: but is the motion of bare desire clothed in correspondences; kill the boy by the sea.
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What does the moment care about: what happens without reservations; did you ever step on something in the wet grass? Or was it somehow already in your hands? Or was it nighttime?
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