They love your directions, to me you're the North star,
When I look away, other lights become dim.
Though I can't imagine the sun being jealous,
I shall make the morrow to see you again.
Will you be an inlay upon my carcass?
In nacre, your laughter, without it, I'm naked.
Will you see yourself in the body, my friend?
A stitch that is hidden, they'll say that I faked it.
But no other color would fit in the end.