Done

This house of flies
I spun.
If I could turn back time.
If I could un-spin the sun.

The calm of cool undone.
Spool un-spun to pools of wool.

Isn't it though the perfect rhyme?
How much more could I need?
A softer dough still rises fine.
There's water for every seed.

Through halls of wax I run.
If I could turn towards time,
If I could un-sing the sun
And just be done