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?