#valaoritis

All things change, one thing becomes another Wood becomes stone, trees become clouds Women become men, leaves become seas ... All tings exist in one another Stones inside of man, man inside of stones Rivers pour out of his fingers His words are tulips His love is a cistern...

... our branches only mingle with the nearby trees, even if we communicate with the whole forest in blindness, as it shudders with the rushing winds or shakes with the tremors of the earth.

What is it like, not the city of God, but this structure of bones, this network of eyes, this broken continuity of flesh, this potential of words like a huge, unexploded arsenal. What is it like inside out?