The long shadows of moments. Everything, in the eternal spaces at the center of two impossibilities, nestled in a new language, escaped from the cyclical gardens of discursive reason, lost in vertical worldviews, teaches me about the vibrations that dwell within them. Moonlight pills, cardamom, saffron, cinnamon, mead, and coriander. Nuts with unheard names and sapphire fruits from chalk-white branches that shimmer as if God Himself polished them. And He did.