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by Amy Clampitt
A vagueness comes over everything, as though proving color and contour alike dispensable: the lighthouse extinct, the islands' spruce-tips drunk up like milk in the universal emulsion; houses definition, however, has not been foxtail and needlegrass, dropseed, furred hawkweed, and last season's rose-hips are vested in silenced chimes of the finest, clearest sea-crystal. opens up rooms, a showcase corolla, as Georgia O'Keefe might have seen it, the ticking, linear 点击收听单词发音
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