What are the ingredients in the ink of this pen?
Circle around, and I'm sure
Somewhere in there
My life and death.

Because I draw myself into the day
Unsure of where I'm pulling from
Explodes the universe into space

And only in this swelling space
Could you ever see my face.

Intrinsic ink, one kind of deposition
Something I do but nothing I forever
I, consistent in no way, shape or form
I
Am all arrows, pointing nowhere in different directions

So dance! make up a human life
I have human eyes that dream of unbridled paradise
I have human hands that work the field in front of me
I want to utter precise truths and unite the tribe with alpha-love
I want to spin stories and touch dissonance with a fevered mind
Love the world from raw to polished
The height of the animal,
That is what a human does.