Our Changing Skins - Musée Mécanique

Once if I remember well

The days were filled with sun and wind

It came to dusk the lights would flicker on

Fortresses of pillows hanging sheets from all the bookshelves

We were kings and queens of our own little lands

Spinning in our changing skins

We’d walk through walls with dizzy heads

Fortune told us angels fear to fly

Secrets that we held inside

Thin the child who wonders why

Wonders why a laugh sounds like a cry

Who wonders why a laugh sounds like a cry

With fraudulent identities

Polaroids and mystery

Smiling faces two dimensionally

Tooth by tooth and leaf by leaf

With other hands and other feet

Our mothers frowned as arms grew out of sleeves

Adulturing was just a thing to be…