A shower restarts the cycle,
A new agenda and a new outline
Mapped out on a foggy mirror
Overlapped on your own blurring projection
As it dissolves into steam.
The floor plan's irrelevance comes to light,
When you're pressed tightly on the ceiling,
Condensing all your feelings into drops
That fracture the incandescence completely.
The cycle burns the indescribable color on your closed eyelids,
That exists, even when it comes back together in the end,
Warmth, blind guidance's reassurance,
Reaching out with sincerity,
But not necessarily seeking out a meaning.
This existence is only human, the fascination of human being.
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