They think you’re dead. Dust on the ocean. Fish food now.
Dead has four letters, one repeat so three. And dea isn’t a word in English so it’s incomplete or something else. A prelude maybe.
Always has six letters, one repeat so five. Not counting decades of linguistic change – they change numbers and geometry. All wayes. Not even just one word, hey?
Then there’s the big bad book. Now that nails mind and perspective to a fishing rod destined to stay empty. Some bait, huh? Do fish count the days to their next meal?
Forget the words and numbers.
Everything is lost if translation lacks a heart.
You don’t have to try that hard to see a full moon all the time no matter what the quadrant says.
By the way, life has four letters. No repeats. Soul food for the gods?