#undesire

"Sadly it could never be sorted, what desire was. Though, it used to be wonted that one gave himself over each time to the cramped flight. That was the dream. To study charts, now, that is something. The consummate lines showing neatly as rise, simply, an arc near the answer to some question I'd posed, and light, very light. Having reached nirvana, I'd keep myself nestled in the lit strata of some stars, a sheet of carbon, dense and billow in my high Fahrenheit, a shroud. In all directions the light is smoothed. Kept so utterly stitched, beyond idiocy only insentience could follow."

   "There's the desire to return, to love, to not be absent, and the desire to die, fought by two opposing waters that are never to be an isthmus.