We sculpt.
We seek perfection.
We seek the lost perfection.
Animation is lost,
lust,
a wet dream,
a diver under water
searching for the same hole in the ice
he once entered,
flittering, floundering, gasping, rising,
to find air,
to find perfection,
again.
Animation is also:
eternally sculpting,
everlastingly tracing
your eternal beauty,
searching for the everlasting,
a light blooming
in the shadow of desire,
a pulse that follows
the contours of the infinite,
the fleeting perfection
that trembles at the edge
of what is
and what is yet to come.
Flitter, flitter,
gasp, gasp,
rise, rise—
through the currents of loss,
through the weight of water,
through the darkness of forgetting.
Flitter, flitter,
gasp, gasp,
rise, rise,
each fragment a hymn,
each fracture a passage,
each loss a luminous opening.
We sculpt.
We rise.
We gasp.
We flitter.
We seek perfection—
lost, found,
again,
again,
again.
