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Water Is The Exile, Carried Back In Cans And Flasks, The Ghost Between Your Hands And Your Mouth.
-Michael Ondaatje
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Water Is The Exile, Carried Back In
Michael Ondaatje
Water Is The Exile, Carried Back In Cans And Flasks, The Ghost Between Your Hands And Your Mouth.
Views: 4
Topic
Hands
Water
Mouths
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Her Father Had Taught Her About Hands. About A Dog's Paws. Whenever Her Father Was Alone With A Dog In A House He Would Lean Over And Smell The Skin At The Base Of Its Paw. This, He Would Say, As If Coming Away From A Brandy Snifter, Is The Greatest Smell In The World! A Bouquet! Great Rumours Of Travel! She Would Pretend Disgust, But The Dog's Paw Was A Wonder: The Smell Of It Never Suggested Dirt. It's A Cathedral! Her Father Had Said, So-and-so's Garden, That Field Of Grasses, A Walk Through Cyclamen--a Concentration Of Hints Of All The Paths The Animal Had Taken During The Day.
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