I once believed that comprehension began with eyes
That what they failed to make sense was meaningless.
For when a picture offers a thousand words,
eyes are first to know. And besides if it were not for the redness and blueness of flowers, what were I to do with them flowers?
Then I picked up, delusion may begin exactly there
My own eyes may lie, at time like near is big, far means small; and when my eyes don't lie, my minds or hearts may do. When they don't, a beginning. Despite emotion, things remain the same with eyes as life neither conceals nor exhibits…
(DRAFT)