Yours is a perfect face and it’s inhabited by the perfect sleep of a perfect mind
Whose full idea of life is to be as quiet and still as possible, a true creature
Unperturbed by the weight of humanity, At one with the quiet behind it
Perplexed by unnecessary ornament that
Ferments reality into human fabric
That cloaks and chokes the bright buzz
Beneath the haze of small talk
Being Every Day 