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Holy crap

I just cut 2,456 words out of "Horses".

Tomorrow: I cut 2,561 more.

I am so tired. Time for an eight-hour nap.

Marine Autumn

I owe you marine autumn
With dankness at its roots
and fog like a grape
and the graceful sun of the country;
and the silent space
in which sorrows lose themselves
and only the bright crown
of joy comes to the surface.

--Pablo Neruda.


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