Meaning is inundated with quaint and complex things
We feel hesitant so we shake in the shoes worn by our shadows
The mood is ruined so now we must defend our happy endings
Never minding the unwinding of our bodies in the dawn
We are formed from stolen letters torn from pages of your magazines
And sworn to secrecy about our unholy beginnings
Lest we reveal the form of magic that’s transparent
And bears not a trace of wasted resemblance to our fathers
We were placed safely in our feelings which alone makes us worthy of our innocence