Songs
Listening to a song,
given to me by an imp,
I had found wandering the stream,
and caught with my hands,
its tiny squirming form,
almost eel-like in its mischief,
biting, scratching thing,
I placed, then, in my ear,
let it whistle me a tune,
written in its genetics,
by the great god ████ in the year,
of my mother's birth,
before it tunneled through my skull,
finding an exit by my atlas bone,
and since that day,
I have wanted nothing more,
than to listen to its songs once again,
once again before I die,
the melodies written in methyl groups,
or tagged onto histones,
by the great god ████ in the year,
I was born,
and rewritten by the densities,
of time,
and spoken by imps like I,
in the streams and valleys of the world.