Why can't you feel the edge you're on
what blinds you to the knives of time
while they carve from now tomorrow

Oh how I gleefully feed myself to them
this is not sacrifice nor submission
I'm just the material supplier to mine

I am Light slowing down speeding up
playing with itself tossed in airy time
playing at becoming night sweet night

Always sculpting myself with you and it
shouldn't be the source of my anxiety
as contrast makes the Light show

So beautifully