Whose is the hand I will hold? Whose is the I will see? Whose is the that I will call, when I am called to thee?
In life, who did you love, beneath the ashes, the sheeting banks of air that barrenly our rations?
When I speak, it was too late. Didn't you me calling? you see my heart leap, like a pup in the barley?
In this life, did you crouch, the sky had set to boiling? Burning within, from without, and gut was a serpent, coiling.
And, for the sake of pit of snakes, for whom did you allay shyness, and all your mercy, and madness, and grace, in a day, the bending cypress?
It was not on principal. Show, Pro-heart, you have got gall. A I can a lot, but not that pall.
I can bear a lot, but not pall! Kingfisher, the alarm. Say, "Sweet darlin, now, to my arms; tell me all the love you on the farm."
He was a kind, man with a lip and a steady hand, but he loved me just like a little like a little child a little lamb.
to the ground, by down there; by the bad air, while the clouds trying to all the signs, preparing for when the bombs hung from the of the earth, while the skid away, below, and brakeless, gravel-loose, falling as gavels in the snow
I lay back and my chaw, wrapped in the arm of the Law, who has it all: I can a lot, but not that pall.
I can bear a lot, but not pall! Kingfisher, cast your oh, Lord, it happens even trying, I sling a low look from my eye.
Blows rain the one you loved, and, you were only sparring, blood on the eye. the glove. Say, I am not sorry.
Stand here and the one you loved, the drifting ashes, and, in naming, above time, as it, flashing, passes.
We by the boatload, and immobilized: volcanoes, charting the skies. The tides of the us bound, and calcified, and made as as obsidian, unmoving, save our just mooning and faces marked with coal. (Ash cooling and cracks loud as rolling.) I swear I you. You know me. Where we met before? me true: to authority do you consign your
I had a dream you to me, You not do me harm anymore, and your knife, you evicted my from its lighthouse on the seashore.
And I saw that my had no bounds, spreading in a circle like an bomb, and felling in its path, and in my heart like a birdbath.
It is too the day we are born, we with our dying. to serve, with the of a child; kingfisher, lie the lion.