and so we continue as in a dream, sweeping with grace over blemish, else tumbling with nightmare intensity into chaotic collapse, only to crawl from the rubble back to musicality, for refuge or for an illusion of substanceÑpseudo- climactic flares, and building lulls and sorrows, a rise of passion to no known end, only that the complexity must not break- must shade, mask the rest- for who dares mar bliss with knowledge?