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Andrew Zawacki

And whenever the prologues to night are enacted, the dimming sun and its grace note gloss on the bay—listen, you’ll hear your self-portrait unveiling, an angelus rising out of indifference, to haunt you with a blueprint of such vacancies by which we visit ourselves. — Andrew Zawacki, from “Velocity among the Ruins of Angel Republic,”… Continue reading Andrew Zawacki

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