the house is made to be heated
who will emplace me? who will provide the permission?
as the house is made to be heated,
so the wound is made to be dressed.
and if the dressing be only for the wound,
then it has fulfilled its function.
a fear of exertion, of expenditure,
keeps us from the necessary functions.
more than necessary,
perhaps we could be sufficient.
perhaps we could, without fading amorphous,
flow into those spaces which have been provided for us.
more than built,
perhaps the house is made.
more than made,
perhaps we are created.
a bootstep, surging onwards,
shapes the mud and disturbs the dullness.
cold wood, shrinking,
aren't we happiest in warmth?