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The Day’s Delight: Want of Evidence

The delight of not taking notes. Of letting the night run long and letting the moment be the moment, existing entirely unto itself and the few who were a part of it.

The fire burned hot, the power of ceremony was invoked, but (and) the ashes have been scattered so thoroughly along the beach that it is as if we have returned to the earth ourselves. As if we never and always were.


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