Migration

I dialled the rain for my incarnation, i became a hive for the bees, soil for the trees, i glimpsed another world and passed through my migration. I walked the earth looking for the debris of my being, i wanted to know if i really did exist, i ached for evidence that i really was missed. The night turned me into my own death certificate written in braille, the rains became my eyes translating me so i could not fail to see i was an invention