Hybristophile or phobe,
I am a neutral probe
Let the gods dance their several dances
And leave me here, alone

No lasso I could muster
Could hug a Hilbert's curve
No human brick or bluster
Could circumscribe a nerve

I feel this way and that,
And do not feel ashamed
I save the things I know, 'til they are
Caught upon the flame

Until they're caught upon the flame, my love
And how do you suppose it makes me feel,
That You should take the things
THAT MAKE ME REAL