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Attraction surrendered to the shaft of light that breaks the statues into rain two pairs of eyes, hailstones soaring in the same gravity, lock onto each other's old scents and fall into stacked, icy rhythms of the earth, a rich red ball of the utterly comfortable dead. voices piled in the air above concrete need to be cut by one. bodies strewn on the air to make god's senses ache wait for the one body willing enough to link all their blood.