With my held tilted up, I see the sky, and think suddenly of the richness and depth of words, momentarily feeling that I can grasp the infinite.
Yet when considering both sky and words, only the latter seem even the least bit pliable.
I am ashamed that I find the ability to form things appealing
a person that professes to desire the infinite and the unnameable!
And even though I don't consider it possible to bend the world around me into squares or rectangles
(or maneuver it into a shape where if twists back onto itself),
this feat seems entirely manageable with sentences.
I need only imagine it doing so,
and find it unnecessary to do anything but describe it.
Yet when considering both sky and words, only the latter seem even the least bit pliable.
I am ashamed that I find the ability to form things appealing
a person that professes to desire the infinite and the unnameable!
And even though I don't consider it possible to bend the world around me into squares or rectangles
(or maneuver it into a shape where if twists back onto itself),
this feat seems entirely manageable with sentences.
I need only imagine it doing so,
and find it unnecessary to do anything but describe it.
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