All the things you say fail to snare anything real, but ripple out and are lost in the strictures of care that pass through you like waves that spread in every direction forging space. To get right up close to the thing words fail, and your faith in words, all you have, has to go too. The thing is wording, like some babbling spring, you've never come close to guessing what these reflections are of. Not a face or an eye or a hand, but great grinning images that loom up out of the mind's secret mirror. Just take a single step and leave behind what you can't carry. It's not a problem, there's nothing that has to come along, not even this.