Eagles fly down to meet the upward thrust of dolphins, rising out of the ocean's froth.
Archers send flaming arrows right round the curve of the globe, ducking as they come from behind and let them spiral eternally - leaving the question, when where they shot? Who was the archer? Forever poised, tautening his bow.
The darkness is married to light. Everything speaks. Magic is a germ within the body of science, pushing it forward to its rebirth in a second alchemical renaissance.
Numbers ricochet around the skies of infinity - refusing to recognise one another as superiors or inferiors, alive with their own particularity and laughing at the cumulative succession of ones that is all they are.
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