LOST Formal
perfection is a property not of texts but of awareness:
without trepidation, one can inhabit this shape,
its poise the fruit of its shape, as an apple is delicious.
But no apple is as sweet as the untasted apple
still dangling on its bough, or the memory of that
branch, or of the planting and nursing
of the sapling. Hence the poignancy of the achieved.