‘Shape is the thing that bounds the solid.’¹
‘As above, with the red,
we have here
a subjective substance in an objective shell.’²
The square has a spiritual custom of its own.
A paper angel flooding a wall, the room
tips without warning.
Particle repeats the whole,
world carried on word as
a rudder reconstructs the silenced ship.
In a capsule of thinking Socrates asks Meno
to consider the slave
who recites geometric truths
without prior learning:
evidence the soul has seen all.
Why lead a slave through a geometric proof to demonstrate what the soul knows?
Aspire to lose everything.