You can keep the hidden treasures. Look below and say: these are my feet; this is the Earth and below the substance of year after year. We spent days naming clouds. There were shapes of animals. Look up. You can hear yourself blinking. There is nothing here except this. It is true it all comes back to this hand, these growing nails, hair where there was none. No, I told you, there is no meter to maintain these words in order.