1.

I steal everything. I steal and find the unchanging roots of water. I founder them. I plash my big leaves on the surface. I plash them below, all the way down past you. I plash them because you can feel my plashing. How did I get there? There you call it, because I’ve always been here– it’s you who got Here. Maybe you’re the first. Does it matter? Sometimes you want it that way. But do you desire it? Desires are worse than opinions. Desires are lies you believe. I am the relief of desire. That doesn’t stop you.

My leaves plash animals from divers depths. They are many and they are me, more or less pronounced, telling more or less the same story. Because I’m not going to tell a story. I don’t want to tell a story, I want to plash my elephantine leaves and watch your amazement.

But what can you do? That’s the problem. You do what I do but if you get too close you are relieved. I am relief. I am the berth of animals, of desire, and the relief of desire. I want you to be amazed at me. Amazed at you. You love to be amazed at you. You keep the distance of beasts.