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On Birds, and the Imperative of Mystic Flight

The Emerald

CHAPTER

The Body of the Sun, Creator, I Fly

I say the words, glittering white as vultures, you are free. For this body is the murmuration of a hundred thousand starlings. This body is not confined to the skin. This body also flies. I fly through the torrent of opinions in the back and forth... oh great world in spite of everything I fly"

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