From behind her computer the receptionist walks to a wall, opens "A secret door," she laughs, disappearing "to where emptiness fades."

For more than an hour dentist and assistant work between my propped-open jaws, probing, drilling, rinsing, filling, replacing old temporary crown with new temporary crown, shaping it "to cover the roots." 

With a mouthful of cotton lozenges, language has this power and it truly dwells in the realm of death only because it is the articulation of the 'vanishing trace' that is the animal voice; that is, only because Sasquatch smiles to himself, remembering that we are deep-rooted trees...

  patient rocks
    gurgling guts

 incarnations each



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