From Panopticon

The wholeness \’hōl‘nes\ of the still. Stone and stone locked in stone. The stones lock themselves. The stones lock themselves. This too is kept in stone, written in stone. Stone to stone. He felt the stones had a place for him. Every stone unturned is made of wall. Where the stones have names. Perhaps his name was stone. Seen through like so many he was dim as stone. As a stone falls in water keeping dry its secret. What splits the stone but doors. Standing in the stone cell. Sleeping on the stone. Walking on stone. Stone to stone. He’s made of something more than stones. Seen through. What might look like stone to you. Polyhedron passage lined with stone. Stone dreams sand. Here’s the perfect stone to skip. Bouncing off the stones his light. Shadowy stones. Lighted like a standing stone. His light shadow stone. He was stoned. Against the stone or thrown from or onto stones. Ancient stones to stones to stones to new ones as old as old stones. Here’s a stone. His is.

Stones. Papers. Scissors.