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| i. inside she heard the rhythm of raintap at her window, wet bullet ricochets of love and life, love and death, that beat the drum for bloodsongs of the heart. |
| ii. he reached inside for the numbness that had settled into dry-sand veins where once had beat the pulse of she whose bloodsong was of lightning, love and life. |
| iii. outside in the dark, he lit another cigarette and thought about the girl who bore his child then died at twenty one, when the drum beat turned its rhythm into rainblood songs of the night and dark. |
| iv. there is only one �we�, for we are not you and i or them and us, splinters of the truth, glimpses of our selves inside a tide of nothing changing into everything. |
| v. solar systems spin behind our eyes, in blood the pulse, an ocean heart drum, echoes of the voice, the thought of nothing crashing into everything. |
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