Even chortling with derision,
Her voice chimed as clear as a bell—
The more we get go know ourselves,
The less willing to acknowledge
We become about what we know.
She had in mind the morning’s news
But nothing in particular.
We study and study ourselves,
She said, and all our studies catch
Us lying all over the place,
Worst about who we think we are,
Which convinces us now we know
We are what we don’t think we are,
Which is what we think we are still.
The human mind is strong that way.
Her laugh pealed. Sthenic, as you know.