Glance is a lovely pretext of the eye
death also is a pretext though not so lovely.
Thorns maintain our blood,
and there is a new sex of people that has discovered God.
We can wipe out the glances and bury death
even though it is filling the world like a vast smoke in flower.
We can hammer all the thorns into ourselves
and never draw a perfect likeness of God.
We can’t join up the eye with death
nor the thorn with god.