I don't have a crystal ball but if I did it wouldn't tell the future. But I'd have a fistful of sloppy notes from studying the past in the crystal. I'd see us in there trying not to break because we believed the lore that taught us we were fragile things, as if we didn't have a core. I'd see us in there shattering, glass bark ground to powder, cold air hits the heartwood and the sap flows, wants to stick it back together. Crystalline trees, songs fall like leaves, and I never knew you until your roots were under my boots. That bumpy bark reflecting my thousand eyes reflecting that I never knew you until the heartwood and sap shown through. But that took a break in that cloudy crystal skin, and it takes us breaking until we see we do grow again. And this grove is quaking aspen shimmering and shaking with the music we're making, hearts fluttering and breaking. Faking a million smiles I tried shaking you awake. Flaking a million times and making sad mistakes. Hurting so casually you were flirting with the pain. Learning nothing from it and so it was all in vain.