It was a million broken crayons ago
In my ancient history
When I had a little love
I need to understand how

Amongst the flamboyant posters
Talking stickers and alphabet rugs
To dreary tiles and no recess
He’s been in front of me

Sometimes he walks by
In the faint traces of my memory
Without consideration, without notice
Sometimes he really just walks by

So now I process
I process him instantly
In the past, in the present
He’s in front of me

He doesn’t want to be
He didn’t decide to be
He doesn’t know
He will never know

I processed tan spotted memories of light
I’m processing choppy blond hair with shards of auburn
I will process dizzying smells of sweat and sunshine
I process now, right now siren cobalt eyes

Eyes, which had charmed me
Now they choose to haunt me
They confuse me
They don’t belong anywhere anymore

A singularity in mind, in space
Reminding me of the egomaniac ruler’s
Screeching which first orchestrated us
So shrill and deadly, each now its own

I somehow fell into a little love.