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… The dark adjusts

itself, settles its wings inside you. The shadows that strut the dark

open and fold like hope, a paper fan, violence

in its pitch and fall, like waves—above them, the usual seabirds, their presumable

indifference to chance, its

blond convergences… As when telling cruelty apart from chivalry can come to seem irrelevant, or not anymore the main point …

—Carl Phillips

you won’t get far by yourself. it’s dark out there. there’s a long way to go. the dog knows.

—Robert Creeley

Whiteout Conditions

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