my mind is

a big hunk of irrevocable nothing which touch and taste and smell and hearing and sight keep hitting and chipping with sharp fatal tools

in an agony of sensual chisels i perform squirms of chrome and ex

-ecute strides of cobalt

nevertheless i

feel that i cleverly am being altered that i slightly am becoming something a little different, in fact

myself

Hereupon helpless i utter lilac shrieks and scarlet bellowings.

~e.e. cummings