How many secrets do we walk past every day?
Sinched off pockets of life,
Their contents affect the cosmos
Like invisible knives.

With just a word or a couple flicks of the finger,
You can reorient the stars
And all the sailors in your tiny sea will start to sail by them...

Ah, but the stars were scattered anyway
And it's good to sail the sea
I never navigated anywhere
'Th no knife turned on my e'e

///

So if only for the thrill
I pull back the skin from my neck
And bear my jugular to the world
Only holding back decisively,
Always wanting to tell you
Everything.