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  The door-sill:
filter of an invisible materiality


Gravid live matter in suspension
Time being regurgitated by things.
Space being inquired between a gap and the next one
Pregnant bowls of gravity swallowing everything
Omens wasting life away
Its tessitura escaping through the door-sill.
Filters strainers of our perceptions,
The sludge brings up bottomed understanding
Invested on the claiming of the immaculate.


Rubens Espírito Santo / December 20th, 2005

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