I have discovered nothing
no potent spasm in truth’s tinge
no certain depth in writhing divinity
I have no enlightenment
no broad scar laid on the slope of thought
no electrifying branch igniting the empty length
I have not discovered any principle
no sinking song hardening the stone
no plaited temple wall where war reclines exhausted
I have no message
no filament of yarn towards Ariadne’s love
no hidden sarcophagus where suffering lies embalmed
I have discovered no primeval essence
no visiting visage vanishing vastly
no substitute for this sum of smoke
Beyond Language 