Reluctant Gravities 4

If a pattern of life is the ground for using a word the way tree bark beds columns of ink, then the word must contain some penumbra, some pulp, some that is never born. [68]

Do I love your face because it is yours or because of the way it differs from circle, parabola, ellipse? [63]

And me almost bursting out of my skin, a drop of water, all surface tension. Now I spread more like a puddle, my body relaxing away from me, no matter how firmly I decline its offers of expansion. [60]

Waldrop, Rosmarie. Reluctant Gravities. New Directions, 1999. ISBN: 0811214281.