extracted drop by drop
the holiest of liquids
o fluid love, o mountaintop!
Your fountainhead's dried up
softly ceasing, little stones
lighten in color, as your
lighten in color, as your
body leaves their bones
Sage and snow, a stoic sylvan throne
tread lightly across the surface
undisturbed until you come
and weave frosted bowers upon the peak, upon the place
Where lonely I lived, o quiet grace!
O empty space!
[instrumental]
Come, sweet, soft
twining vines surround you
my heart is a fruit fallen off
of your limbs, of your limbs, of your warmest bough!
Bursting open, sapped and sticky, I am drowned
and the ants crawl in to my grieving skin
to pluck away my seedling hope
and to scatter my body in the wind
And wither tend you now?
I am the seed, I am the vagrant spore
Wind-tossed and wandering, hollow and soft
inchoate, separate from your barky moor
Rooted, you must be where you were before
but it seems you're as breeze-blown as I
For the earth, she has turned her face
clear around, left you inverse, dangling in the sky
She has left you, lonelier than I.
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