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 See how it fails! See how the converging lines of the hexagonal spire escape upward— receding, dividing! —sepals that guard and contain the flower!

Observe how motionless the eaten moon lies in the protecting lines.

It is true: in the light colors of morning brown-stone and slate shine orange and dark blue.

But observe the oppressive weight of the squat edifice! Observe the jasmine lightness of the moon.