Without measure, as into tomorrow, I to you. Falling through the cracks of once learned order. Rejoining the place of dead light and dreaming. Back into the hands of thin whispering crowds, And into the kingdom of one imperfect circle. The soft hum again fills my ears as they rub together their anxious legs. We are one, you and I. Oft overlooked by the vast all who do not see well enough under these conditions. Loved by the one or two or three who know. The knowing all at once sweetened and destroyed by its small stature. It is more handsome not to know.