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“Science is the Opposite of Life”

Sometimes you see a face, and the long journey up to it might be two years, and it’s neither harder nor easier than climbing an elevator shaft filled with money, but at discovery, you might be transfixed or unable to focus, wanting nothing but to keep the feeling. The coal rushes over from Chicago, tips of the evening flirt with midday’s pride, and the moment you’ve felt is gone forever, where you nestled it to rest between twirling elm trees. Spinning, the top of your skull under your eyes’ ceremony, with the sky something liquid that you impale and neglect, your last possible thought, the least likely conclusion your logical mind may draw, is that, This is how life is supposed to be.

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