lI — Il

Joy grew a person, a long ugly man. He was the person-piece of joy.
"I have broken this or that!" one shouts to joy's person and joy's person busies himself.
"I have thought this or that!" one shouts to joy's person and joy's person does not lean in to ask.
"I am in mourning!" one cries to joy's person, one's sides shaking, one's eyes broken open, and joy's person turns away, toward another.
Joy grew a person, the long ugly man.