there is a series of silver buttons
lined up along the edge
waiting to be pressed
waiting to be attached
What a lovely story
The first tells of fire
Of drowning and falling
Fear, pain, horror
What a lovely story
The next tells of coldness
Jumping through hoops
Smiling, freezing, dying.
What a lovely story
The following holds close
Keeping the details in stone
Silent, secret, invisible.
What a lovely story
The last one wants to share
Of blossoming and growing
And finally letting go.
What a lovely story
The future will present
Of greens and blues and browns
And angels in my hair.
there is a series of silver buttons
lined up along the edge
waiting to be released
waiting to be released
