Shape
Take a day cruise in a cyclone.
All the touching becomes the final hurdle as bound amongst the flesh is the feeling. Every pleasure has its pain.
Murder is an unconscious shape.
Pluralism has entered and dissolved identity, whom like clarity was always left wanting. Burdensome prick, cut it off. Make me a woman.
I is dialectic.
A shape with a boundary knows nothing. Shapes without boundaries no of boundaries.