When he lifts one eyebrow
The two furry lines above the windows to the soul
Become uneven.
One eye becomes smaller then the other.
Distortion is exciting.
They are affraid of the confusing secrets benieth the ineffable nothingness that they can’t control, so they pile up severed organs of the whole, hiding their awareness from the question.
They can defeat themselves. They can defeat eachother. They can play and pretend victory, but they can’t answer the questions that come up when silance becomes loud and motion becomes still.
It’s a bit too much for a person to handle it. But if they were no longer a person, maybe they’d have a better chance at it?