This is a poem I sent to my beloved cousin, for her Kickstarter Reward. It is named after my new album "A Matter of Time"
During the incubation phase - A chicken wing will ignore it's feathers, And lie limp in a slimy substance Called the future. Though ugly and warm, This texture produces life itself. Never underestimate a catalytic force, Or Unquenchable impulse. Because buried in your unborn bones Lies a fragrance that is magic. And this perfume will attract your Perfect lover. Slowly, you will grow. Old skin will shape shift and re-pattern Itself To reveal - like a maddening jigsaw - a shape That is, and has always been, Your delicate and lovely self.