Time and Relative Dimensions in Sketch

Il y a des humeurs qui ne se contrôlent pas, impulsées par des découvertes imprévues. Doublement imprévues, imprévues et Imprévu dirais-je même, car c'est dans cette petite tanière de la Rue Quincampoix que j'ai entendu ce morceau pour la première fois, que je l'ai SoundHoundé et réécouté. Enjoy.

It was only last night that the Ghost turned to flesh And in the silken folds of its unearthly smile -Extending to its eyes in subtle riverbeds; I harvested the scent of flowers, yet unknown: They were born, and blossomed in the blink of a night. The fabric of its skin, pearly, newly woven Clothed my arms and my spine and crept into my bones. The Ghost that I had seen, haunting me from afar, Slithering under its veil of silvery hair, Murmured a melody, half of words, half of sighs. It was only last night, as the Ghost turned to flesh.