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“Saint John of the Cross in Prison” by James Tate 🇺🇸 (8 Dec 19438 Jul 2015)
Browsing among the zero-hours, and where I went from there. diabolical? No. I went out of myself into … I did not go out of myself into the afternoon of parrots; I did not go out of myself into the dew; I did not go out of myself into the bat-terrors. I did not say silence, I said nothing about the love I did not go out of myself into. I said nothing fire, I said nothing water, I said nothing air. I went out of myself into no, into nowhere. I was not alone.