Children Playing in a Park
This is not your country. This is my country. Your country may look like my country from inside your country but it’s not. My country is over here, down this vortex of spinning stars.
See those children playing in the park? Sliding, running, swinging, tumbling? That there may be other countries has not yet occurred to them. Their countries flow together in a universe of motion.
When their mothers sit them down for time out, something dies inside them.
