Deep down in
The churns we twirl
With our beating hearts
My eyes flutter back into time
Like I'm speeding soundlessly
Whirling past
5 different evolutions
Of my own soul.

And the whiplash of a blonde mane
Intertwined with new ink, greenery
Flower in that hair
Flower in that hair
Flower.

Papa snapped a photo
I remember wondering if it was good
I see my reflection now
In the windowless counters
I dip my porcelain brain
Deep, deep down
Like I could go on forever
But I'm not immortal.

How strange and wonderful it is
To have built and to keep building
So much.