You knew my capital disease,

my freeing tries to dream.

You knew all my entities,

sleeping sides and seams.

I know I am a tailor now,

a weaver of my fate,

I corrugate my life, and how,

my life, you procreate.

You spent your stormy nights alone,

windy days aside,

but weren’t you feeling right at home,

apologize, and chide.

An atheist, a Man of god,

is not your life a choice,

my sanctity, my only lord,

do hummingbirds rejoice?

Capricious, collateral,

a timbre of control,

bassist monpoly,

a life thats only soul.