Angels, demons, and masks,
concrescent in fractal digestion,
chasten the primordial intestine.
Sonic undertow of the true presence.
We stand senseless in comprehension,
overcome by the grace of understanding.
We, who are destinies;
destined to squander ourselves.
See how we cannot but open ourselves!
See in what depths we anchor our highest,
and how our heaviest is tied to our lightest!
Sacred kites dance wanton at the ends of chains the breadth of battleships.
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"The mind is not a vessel to be filled, but a fire to be kindled." ~ Plutarch