I am not washed and beautiful, in control of a shining world in which everything fits, but instead am wandering awed about on a splintered wreck I\u02bcve come to care for, whose gnawed trees breathe a delicate air, whose bloodied and scarred creatures are my dearest companions, and whose beauty beats and shines not in its imperfections but overwhelmingly in spite of them, under the wind-rent clouds, upstream and down.
