Praised be man, he is existing in milk and living in lilies – And his violin music takes place in milk and creamy emptiness – Praised be the unfolded inside petal flesh of tend’rest thought – (petrels on the follying wave-valleys idly sing themselves asleep) – Praised be delusion, the ripple – Praised be the Holy Ocean of Eternity – Praised be I, writing, dead already and dead again…

Praised be my fellow man, For dwelling in milk..