I was born in Angel City , under Carpenter Limbs.
The perfect mix of Exigency and Timbre, organized chaos with a beautiful tongue.
I’ll never forget the moment I met my birth parents, separated at death,
Their eyes shut made them look like wounded tapestry, to only be awake in the sun.
Files upon files were exchanged, my birth defects made infamous under the kiss of kaleidoscopes.
I can’t tell you what I thought when the glitter of lights shone upon my bruised head,
But I can share the sight of it.
I lived as a luxurious rat down on its luck,
Running on feeding tubes and white wine spritzers.
All I can remember from my given parents is their clicking catacombs,
Always click-click-click-click-clicking.
My hidden tapestries formed perfect vowels, shining a season of disbelief.
“A harpsichord!” is what my veins scream, every second of that nonstop click-click-click.
A shudder came upon me when my first images were of zeppelins crashing into the sea.
After that, we moved and vowed to never return.
Evidently, panic only rushes the situation, not aid in swift judgment.
We moved to a crucified beach where we allowed our limbs to soak up placebos,
Like a translucent sponge.
“Harpsichords! Harpsichords!” I needed that cocaine,
And once I had it, I became the masterpiece I was born to become.
Exigency then came to me in a dream, and gave me my first piano.
And with it, I conquered the skies and the seas, but never got a hold of the surface.
At my ripe young age I already knew my destination.
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