You are too wise, you know what the constant light means, you know what grows where and how to twist it when the darkness meets it so that it can moss over and meld into a growth that will melt it down. You fungi plus silk, the lurch of me is trying to unlearn all the confusions of you. Mother, mother, quite contrary, how does your deadliness grow? With a tooth and a rack and a craw and a sack and all the daughters caught in their rows.