the nausea has stayed down there, in the yellow light. i am happy: this cold is so pure, this night so pure: am i myself not a wave of icy air? with neither blood, nor lymph, nor flesh. flowing down this long canal towards the pallor down there. to be nothing but coldness.
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the nausea has stayed down there, in the yellow light. i am happy: this cold is so pure, this night so pure: am i myself not a wave of icy air? with neither blood, nor lymph, nor flesh. flowing down this long canal towards the pallor down there. to be nothing but coldness.
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