Made and unmade,
we make stories and call them memories,
make memories and call them identity,
make identity and call it dream,
making, unmaking, remaking
everything we find, including ourselves.
One thing wants to associate with another.
One thing wants to differentiate itself from another.
Everything, we were nothing.
Now, nearly nothing, we are one thing
singing of everything.
Made and unmade,
we give things names and context
and pretend they are new, they are real.