Even if I don’t see it again — nor ever feel it I know it is — and that if once it hailed me it ever does — And so it is myself I want to turn in that direction not as towards a place, but it was a tilting within myself, as one turns a mirror to flash the light to where it isn’t — I was blinded like that — and swam in what shone at me only able to endure it by being no one and so specifically myself I thought I’d die from being loved like that.
