Beauty must be alive - it grows
like branches on a tree
and there are never branches not alive with beauty,
it is the mark of life.
There doesn't seem to be a real distinction
between life and beauty;
one finds its own expression
in abundant camouflage
the other finds a way to give itself
to what is similar.
There is no curl without a purpose,
every straight line points to somewhere,
everything is only stilled to be admired
before it begins again
chasing a spiral.
