Dana Goodyear reads
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We found (like the deserting) spacious calm, drank a pair of Arnold Palmers underneath a palm. Went for massage and mud, lacquer, love, overheated minerals, a stimulating rub. Then—as if it could be used, as if for art— I placed a grain of doubt in your open-pored heart, and watched what had been small dilate and everything else evaporate.