We were joined by grunts. To be eloquent is to be alone. So many books since the printing press until the final book will say it’s not a book that will say it. Its isness smiles smugly as you try to explain it. How can one explain what it is to be other than by being? How can you look at me and say words when we’re as in love as we are? Don’t you feel it? Didn’t your teachers always bore you? But you learned to stand it. Learned to speak and study and remember. All while the mountains stood still and the rivers ran. While what was stayed the same and still is. Because it all just is. And that’s it. We’ve worked ourselves up into a tizzy because we thought we were onto something. We thought we could figure it out. But it already was figured out. It already was. And now it is.