there

this is me in my prime

and i've got lots of time

it's really important

my fickle task

and you'll never ask

repeating and constant

dissolving the grime

this is me in my prime

the clouds break as if for the first time

it's blurry, not tangible and hanging on a line

a gust caresses it and helps it away

my mind follows but my body, it will stay

they travel on four and have it all right

rest in the shade and bask in the bright

let go of themselves yet hold on to their form

we think they're askew and not of the norm

the presence of decay does not worry me

the absence of beauty negates my will to be

a genuine care told by your handshake

can attempt to heal, resurrect and alleviate

one-fourth there, i reflect

and savor the faces i tried to collect

i can only be the sum of my parts

broken skin and an antimatter heart