“Symbolism, symbolism, symbolism. Or are they just clouds? But they look like peonies. And the planes look like ants. What else could that be but ants crawling through a garden, carving their homes, feeding on grass? Grass. Grass? Do ants eat grass? Or maybe mulch. Or the crumbs I lay in their hands. Meaning…meaning, meaning. Bite, eat, devour. How do ants eat? Technicalities, technicalities. It’s all done in the end. And the wind and boats and sails. Sailing was explained to me and what else could it be but body weight pushing against the breeze and water. Reflection, reflect. I see water, I see sky. I see sky, I see clouds. And we’re back where we started. In sky I see the colors of eyes. See, see, there’s no way to not see reflections, mirrors in nature, and not think we are all but one continued mass.”