Symmetry is an answer key – kind, like a held hand. But Love, go out and find for me – in our infinity of mirrorlands, some mathless magic in the sea – a scientist’s anomaly. Love, go make discoveries! Write them in divine shorthand. Find – but don’t bring back to me! that sanctified asymmetry. The matchless wing, the squareless root, will die here in captivity. Then – come back and lay with me – show me what you’ve written down. Fingers like a drunken bee will trace an ‘up’ that needn’t ‘down’ and mate the palms of unlike hands to pray like only difference can.