Not with the myth and phosphorus of metaphor. Not
with lines of force looped in true-love knots.
Not by dumping the urn and reading the ashes. Not
through sonic wantonness, but not
through disciplined listening, either. Not
with numbers always setting words at naught
nor letter-cluttered words whose O is nought.
Not by guessing at the sea’s pet name for night. Not
by vivisecting “noun” and naming all its parts. Not
with tongs and not with tweezers, not
with tongues and not with gestures. Not
through loftiness, analysis, or laughter. Not
by saying what it is. But definitely not
by saying what it’s not.
—Amit Majmudar
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