Spawned off of Dana's wonderful, fantastic American sentence:

Everything else can be new while the self spins in still epicycles.

Epicycles: illusory motions keep ideas fixed in their spheres.

Spheres are the dreams of circles, circles of lines, lines of mere points like eyes.

Two points define a line, horizontal, a horizon of yearning.

Horizons tease but never come, keeping ahead like a true idea.

Kinda feel like these want more form to connect them and lead them forward.