I'm Sorry, But I Was Born With

There Are No Hierarchies, No Infinite, No Such Many As Mass, There Are Only/ Eyes In All Heads,/ To Be Looked Out Of.

Love Is Form, And Cannot Be Without Important Substance

What Pudor Pejorocracy Affronts How Awe, Night-rest And Neighborhood Can Rot What Breeds Where Dirtiness Is Law What Crawls Below

Is It Not The Play Of The Mind We Are After? Is It Not That That Shows A Mind Is There At All?

What Does Not Change Is The Will To Change