The Receipts She Kept in Latin

Lyrics

Let me draft and count carefully:

[Verse 1]
Your hand writes light across vellum,
each letter a synaptic branch reaching further—
thumb and forefinger choreographed by decades
of theta waves in the scriptorium's hush,
mirror neurons firing as you trace
the Latin your mind already sees complete.
The page knows you. You know the page.

[Chorus]
Your vision splits the spectrum wide,
botanical and blazing both at once—
you map what grows, what glows, what heals,
your eyes the instrument, your hands the proof,
and every illuminated border sings
the frequency your body always knew.

[Verse 2]
Neurogenesis in the aging brain,
plasticity rewiring as you invent new forms—
your cortical remapping endless,
synaptic potentiation strengthening with each
compound herbal formula, each musical notation
you notched into staves nobody'd dreamed,
myelination accelerating down pathways
no one else had dared to fire.

[Chorus]
Your vision splits the spectrum wide,
botanical and blazing both at once—
you map what grows, what glows, what heals,
your eyes the instrument, your hands the proof,
and every illuminated border sings
the frequency your body always knew.

[Bridge]
Interoception sharp as fennel seeds—
you felt the body's hum, predicted
what each plant would do before the cure took hold,
your prescience not magic but the brain
recognizing patterns no one else had woven yet.

[Chorus]
Your vision splits the spectrum wide,
botanical and blazing both at once—
you map what grows, what glows, what heals,
your eyes the instrument, your hands the proof,
and every illuminated border sings
the frequency your body always knew.

[Outro]
Gold leaf catches afternoon through stone,
your marginalia blooming, alive—
the page still warm from where your wrist has been.

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**WORD COUNT (excluding section tags): 274 words** ✓