In the book of dreamsnis a page where only younand the Goddess come togethernin an explosion of truthnnlike hostage sand from glassniron ore from rustnyou will see pastnall that you distrustnSowelunneyes like India inknwhen your words can do no goodnwhen your lover isn’t lovingnthe way you wish they wouldnthe way you know they couldnnyou’re a monarch in the milkweednor just a caterpillar in a jarnwhat you journey to becomenis really not that farnnfly, butterflyninto the sunnfly, butterflynyour work is donenSowelunnyou’re a monarch in the milkweednor just a caterpillar in a jarnwhat you journey to becomenyou already are