Representation

I have no conscience because I always chew my pencil. Can we say white paper with black lines on it is like a human body? This question not to be decided by pointing at a tree nor yet by a description of simple pleasures. Smell of retrieval. Led to expect the wrong answer. An arsenal without purpose but why yes please. There is no touching the black box. The tree not pointed at lives in your bringing up the subject and leaves space for need, falling. The white ground. The waning heat. I’d like to say the history of the world. Or that grammar milks essence into propositions of human kindness. The difficulty here’s not true or false but that the picture’s in the foreground and its sense back where the gestures link so closely to the bone the words give notice. The application is not easy.