It is perhaps an error to think you are outside, that you surround me and dress up with life; for you are also inside, and disrobe yourself of me.
It is from your extensive and profound silence that all those things palpable and witnessed emerge, and that is also how from your profound darkness within me that I come forth.
You, dressed with life; and I, dressed with being.
Yet, the pregnant void whence you and I came is as external as it is internal, as foreign as it is intimate, and as you as it is me.
