“We are monstrs. . .”
Begin by having
The same body as yourself.
You are like yourself,
The likes of yourself,
A body, a form, the same.
The sense development’s strange.
Perhaps you liked what liked you,
And what you liked, liked you well.
Wouldn’t that be just like you?
And then you perish,
Still a body, still alike
Long enough in the litch gate
To join the ground of likeness,
The lichhaemleas, all alike.