division kyla No longer does my memory require your dialogue of weathered mathematics-- days, years, epochs--the old edges melted together without distinction-- without permission, though, if asked, I would have granted it. The questions we most revere have always defeated us-- still we look up at them with eyes of waterful conceit. Now, I may say, Do Not Suppose In Me Any Further Desire For Answers. Wisdom is no longer implied in the passing of time--neither is the passing of time implied, only displayed--an ornament not to be understood or contemplated, only...positioned somewhere duly politic. 020917 ... silentbob joy 020918 what's it to you? who go blather from