The Altruist
"Once, a man telling and still, arrived. I was feverish not quite asleep. though, I knew he wasn't near. really I knew he, wasn't. Before that, a long time before, a Woman told me something. (she was above a staircase) I was asleep. I've slept since, and sometimes she sounds. Neither brought things - they didn't know what it was "to sell." but after clear world With the sick one talks quick. Near the sleeping one's quiet keeps. and If, going to where one goes, one goes just for burning fuel then quickly quietly one passes places, consequence burned. to affect the feverish, lie still (and) exhausted Scream the sleepers adream. then gifts, these: uncanny and beloved, clip claims, tumble from our arms and rest in friends, these are care - not pleasure. Pleasure burns of its own."
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