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All art is made in opposition 
to being. To make beggars be-
lief, which is God. To dance 
I’ve heard, is just to pray.

Hands compress thought, useless 
without grace. Angels — aware — 
carry swords. If wings, then 
wings are beside the point. 

A masterpiece need only draw 
upon itself. Out-gun. Words used
to get beyond words (avow), bodies 
outrunning the body (outré).

And yet, and still, to everlast 
breeds a diabolical numbness, as 
angels know and can’t help knowing

: this is the poverty of angels 

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