Paradise produces hallucinatory castles. Inside, crowds dazzled recall fragments of bites at vastness pierced by feverish swords now underfoot. Jugglers lean into hyena's mouths, their blood turned into thin lines of pale want, expectant nets of moment. Silence metaphors without a name, begging ears to father feelings dredged through old tights, stinking with the illusion of accident. Poor natives analyzed upon emotion's face like nervous guides that know not well they know.
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