If I had the perfect collection

to adjust a musing to relatable truth,

I’d aim to perpetuate the life lessons

I learned and value from my youth.

If I had the perfect installation

to walk you through a never-ending story,

I’d paint you a beautifully, tragic picutre

of a childhood drenched in untamed glory.

If I had the perfect words

to tell you stories of infamy,

I’d say that narrative burns loud and sweet,

beginning first with me.

If I had the perfect silence

to rock you to your core,

I’d stare holes right through you

so you could feel me forevermore.