Sentimental bacchanals beneath an effusive moon, bejewelled foliage frantic with emancipation, gathering madness in the shadows. The jar is adored and anointed with vowels. Oasis of infinitesimals within this agitated state of late. There are, of course, no actual infinitesimals. The intractable tactility of surfaces tenses, lenses elicit elucidation. To learn to do things with the prismatic logic of what with eyes of text to see through inhabits these most intimate circuits. A moist thought glistens, or this might be that moment's notice. The plane of simultaneity is mainly deranged. Starlight is almost sentient.