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“It is very difficult to talk in Afrikaans …,” begins the bodiless voice.

Elena comments, “All I have are her words, their rhythms — bodiless and abandoned.”

But it is unusual for them to stream in as a bodiless apparition.

I miss, too, the heat of a club so packed, I feel invisible in it, when you’re feeling nameless, weightless and bodiless but somehow also all things at once.

“Just imagine the conversations one might have with a bodiless priest.”