Memories were kitchen floors with puddles I was muddled in. Didn t wear my need with grace like slobber on the cuffs of wrath. Turned it down to simmer, simmer. Wouldn t let the steam escape. Aging was a soggy cracker.
Immortal slippers didn t fit.
You were ready then, I knew, but mortal was an awful mugger. Had me reaching for the mace. Near the end your skin was paper. Wadded up like dollar bills.