There are images that flit flit flit through my mind, feathers and phylacteries and faces that cry out in wild ecstasy. I don't know what they are pleased for, but they are so very happy that I am almost caught up in it enough to want to scream with them. In my dreams I dance to a symphony of ragged wingbeats and prayers. The land I inhabit is
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There are images that flit flit flit through my mind: feathers and phylacteries, and faces that cry out in wild ecstasy.
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