Parts of your codes tore kisses from a closed system. The mad sky. The shyness in writing. I found a line somewhere under my bookcase. Notes. Descriptions. The sentences are an ocean. We thought about words we could not forget.
Everything can shift shape, can change, can transform. The cloud hid something from the birds. And we awoke. When I woke up, I was certain: From the smallest details we find, every morning – in the shining light that is bright – our way into the most important scientific truths.