There is no peace
in the most clever part
closed in bone outline,

there are only climbing simulations,
under the spiral sign
feeding themselves with the thought temptations.
How high can high be
that we can’t see it
with anything?
And how deep can deep be
that we can’t get to it?

Lord,
everything is born so abstract
in the brain’s convolutions,
unused anyway,
and time hurries ...