Crossing vessels and long rods made of metals that won’t digest readily and sit sweetly on my tongue while my brain swarms around the vast crater left by all of the angles of the architects who made me feel worthless. The architects leave their marks all around me. I feel it through my body that first thought that would be that this building is ugly or that building is a scar on my landscape, but now they are all beautiful, they are perfect, and my crater swells because I don’t have any marks to leave. I should take crabby photos.