In Portland this evening a church's red bricks are falling into the darkening sky like dry blood flaking off serpentine skin. Soon church and sky will disappear, leaving the place where the most unlikely opposites come together, the place where our separate intuitions momentarily link up. The myth of Theseus, the Minotaur, Ariadne, and her thread continue a firmament chilled from the cold distance its myth.

 

 

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