Lyric by Molly Reisman:

Smooth away all your edges. Cool in my hand like the ocean itself. Whirlpools slipping through my fingers, passing back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and nothing can get in my way and there’s no reason to hurry and there’s no reason to slow. And you fall through my fingers as if you were only clay. Only clay and nothing more. But you are who came before and you are who will come after. You are every man, woman and child and thing that took breath and you are in my hands and you are mine to smooth. Smooth and endless and deep as a pit. Deep as the milky way. Deep as the universe. Deep enough to swallow me up. Deep enough to carry the comets and the black holes and the stars and the suns and the moons and the troubles of all the little flecks of heartbeats in the galaxy. And you pass through my fingers as if you were only clay. And you are mine to smooth. To smooth away all your edges.

Clayton Daniel Briggs (2/25/2016)