Om Mig
Remember the dead yesterday
Tomorrow awaits a loneliness
Goodbye to the dying today.
The more I stare forward, the more I declare,
I cannot see.
Yet her presence feels dreadfully near
I have not discovered myself yet.
I cannot discover myself yet
Within these paradigms.
Red is her essence, it is her jewel.
If I could, with my finger, I'd plant it between her eyes,
So that I may stare there forever.
Red is her soul beaming through those eyes.