AGAINST IMMORTALITY I don't want to live forever I don't want to be taken out of my dying body I don't want to be more enduring than the hills their purple color flecked with orange the black spot of buzzard hanging high above seeing many hilltops at once smelling all the threads of scent autumn sends up the change of weather coming across the horizon's expanding age changes in the wind the moisture the order of stars and change below smaller sometimes furtive things slowing or stopping flesh now unmoving slackening richly giving off its scent of decay like a beacon of light to the mind of a buzzard a point around which one can swirl on wide wings and feel how the point can dim but while it still lasts can be the center and inspiration of a spiral closing in on itself with the fullness of an apple holding her seeds
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