I'm talking tension. Under a summer sun, alive, how tight can the skin become? It feels good, movement becomes something liquid, something connected to the world. Everyone knows how hard it was to die, people still think about it, talk about it. An accident, a sudden smash, then my skin, unravelling, loose. Then that loss of heat that signals something. An ending, liquid dispersing.

--"It ain't bad--easier to suffer in this here hot that we know than some cold we don't." He said. He lifted his hammer, vigorous, living.

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