Distant as the summer wave . I drowned there.
Quiet as the snowy night. I let my spirit rise.
Two ruddy hawks and a hand full of regret. My heart pumps sand painted midnight blue.
Harpsichord tremblings jitters my veins and I don't remember anymore.
I write myself notes, stuff inkblot pages with phaded photos and try to lie under the world,
one more time escape the vicious radar of a place I can't touch, with hands that can't feel.
Dear God, My God, don't let them remember me.
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