The diamond that was stolen held the code that melted

water into letters spelling where it had been taken to.

In fact, I had a vision of the numbers corresponding with

the letters T-H-E-D-I-A-M-O-N-D.



They're suspended like a prism splitting floodlight to

poles of primary colours clawing the veil of the vacuum.

There's a picture of this given to authorities, the

sentence,"I'm an architect and here's my prison" written

on it.



With schematics so meticulous the measurements of

superimpositions of a room within the window make a

dream that ends up being such an entity in your

reflection, you are the dream to it, you are the prism.



The mirrors in the corner throwing images against the

other mirrors made counting corners impossible the

breaking news had counted one, two, three, four, five,

six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven corners of the

mirrored corners.



Why have you done what you have done something is so

sinister when staring at the diamond something you

have done sinister why have you done this am I in the

mirror am I what you have been staring at am I a

diamond?



Just like a reflection of a friend of mine, I am a

reflection of an enemy, am I a reflection of an enemy,

just like a reflection of a friend of mine?