I think she’s beautiful and funny and wise.

She’d have the brilliant lyrics ready, forget the words and spontaneously replace them with a better version.

She’s everything but me, I can’t relate in any way, a missing connection, no unity and we cannot seem to share.

I am the mirror for her, and I am the mirror for her,

and it makes me wonder where my own image leaves me.

On the broadened wisdom can I rely? From my childhood I depart. With shaky steps and more earnest, I leave carelessness behind.

Time for bending obsolete, solidity is now in force.

Purposeful, embedding, intact.

The more I walk, more unmistaken.

Not alleged, not read into.

Self re-aligned.