Le Grand Bleu

+the knot does not untie from within but frays at the edges, a thread pulled loose by unseen hands+ —we do not walk in bodies—we drift in thought, for there is no world but the one the mind dreams— [form is a trick of light, a fleeting shape of held-together stars] And when the hands that bind us let go, we do not vanish—we expand. +The gatekeeper crumbles into dust, and the tide rushes in+