Let me tell your the story
Of my thousand layered skins
I peeled them off
One by one, shimmering skins
Dark or light, in a blessed moment
Discovering myself, or any part of it

My own temple was sweet and soft
Waiting for my savior
Waiting for his blessing words

Immaculate pieces
Of a perfect mirror
Broken, broken on the floor
Looking for my savior

I saw myself in the bright shards
I therefore let my temple collapse
Hoping for a fresh new bloom