We never knew the epic head of sight wherein the round eyes ripened. Even so his torso still glows like a gas streetlight in which his gaze has merely been turned low, and holds agleam. If not, then the breast's bare curve could not dazzle you, nor could the loin swerve a smile down toward that center where begetting was begotten at the groin. If not, this stone would stand cut short with strife and maimed beneath the shoulders' clear cut case, and would not shimmer like a wild beast's fur, and would not burst forth like a blazing star from all its boundaries: for there is no place that does not see you. You must change your life.