Fed and feeding brains about me: under glowlamps, impaled, with faintly beating feeler: and in my mind's darkness a sloth of the underworld, reluctant, shy of brightness, shifting her dragon scaly folds. Thought of thought. Tranquil brightness. The soul, in a manner, all that is: the soul is the form of forms. Tranquility sudden, vast, candescent: form of forms.