To visualize what you can’t see:
That’s the paradoxical pleasure of the mind.
In the afterbirth of seeing,
Death of imagination.
To dally on the brink of reality:
That’s the snug of life.
In the capitulation of the summit,
Now is the legend beyond
Become the cliche of the elements.
Shall the synthetic gauze
Atone for the beauty of the fertility lines?