do you know the name of god? do you know it? is it somewhere, lodged between your teeth. could i pry it out? you would remember it, right. if someone had told you. if He had given His name to you would you give the privilege of saying it. would your voice lilt over the syllables? but, then. you shouldn't. it would be sickening, that sort of perversion, the kind of thing that simply shouldn't happen. there are some names that should never be said. there are some things that should never be stated out loud. i know infinity. it's longer than you think. infinity isn't a number. it cannot be quantified, and it cannot be explained. to Know it is, inherently, wrong. it's not something that should be known, really. it should be a concept and nothing more. and yet...
infinity is longer than you think. but i think you know it. i think if i looked i would be able to find it. tan ni: you know the taste of rot. i can see insects dotted, crushed, on the surface of your teeth. crushed, yet they still remain. you know the smell of ant blood - sugary sweet. sometimes you even take it as face value, because you don't care to ignore it. you take and you don't give. there's supposed to be a balance here. but you have never been one for hesitation or reservations, you just take and take and take, and it doesn't matter to you whether or not it's something that should be taken, something that would benefit you in the end, or even in the beginning. what i'm trying to say is that i think you would know the taste of divinity because it's inherently underwhelming. there is nothing to be gained from it. you take it, you fall under its whims, and you can do nothing about it. because you can't go back. you have a good memory, and we are more alike than we are different, therefore. infinity is the same way. what is divinity if not infinity? what is infinity if not taking, and what is divinity if not taking. this is the reason why i stare at your wings, closer to a perfect divine white than any other color, and i think - well, there are some things that shouldn't be said. not aloud, not written down, not typed, not carved, not-
you get the point, don't you? anyway, if i were to spell out my truest feelings without using stupid metaphors, i'd probably get dizzy from the sheer vulnerability, the sheer - audacity. i will speak in coded messages. the truth is divine and should never fall from my lips. if it did so, i would keep seeing the aftermath in mirrors, i would keep tasting it every time i swallowed - divinity is like blood in that you can't unspill it. in that when it's out it's out. in that it's not the kind of thing that should be spilled, in that i keep spilling it anyway, because that's the type of person i am. in that it stains your hands and all you can do is look down at them, and all you can do is remember it and remember it and remember it and remember it. you need to remember it, because it's what you need, and if all you can get is the aftertaste that's okay. you and me are alike - we take what we can get.