Body could find nothing in embodied knowledge
To name the black trees of the forest, various
And mind-numbingly similar, both numerable
And infinite, combinatorial, imaginative, indefinite.
Body could only note the trees were whispering,
Were talking amongst themselves both between
Their trunks and branches and among the twigs
Between body's thoughts. The trees were talking
About consciousness, the trees that never were
Conscious themselves, never the activity
Whose unity was the same as the consciousness
Of its unity. The same, the trees never the same.
Body was lost in the forest because the forest
Of the lost, the trees of names without names
Of their own, had grown within body and grew
Into night, monsters making angels making monsters,
Angels making monsters making angels.
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