She was not content to sit in silence,
Or else forced to hallucinate.

She found a lens inside her socket
Fell through, and became null.

But all her flailing arms did kiss,
And strike her down,
Or nearly missed

Gnawing, pulling, scraping
For their utter composition.

The collapsing heavens gave their sign
Her family, and house divine
Then her dream went glassy smooth,
And motion proved... impossible.

She ate herself between the stars,
Who watched, and never said a word
Remember when we found him first?
Our little, iridescent bird

I think the moon must know the future.
I guess my death must know me well.
I didn't think we were like that--
It all just seemed too oddly specific.