i am comforted in my own - just like ice melts, only not so
warm, just warm enough. lay like a leaf in the sun, holding up lace, so that
when i lower it the pattern will be burned across my face, intricate enough
so that people will have to lean inclose
to see

i am forever changing, like no mona lisa because
"bullets pass through me and I keep moooooooving"
only the bullets never reach me - i know i'm dreaming when i'm
dreaming.