Or if we are her dream
Your words are fire
And they burn her heart
Her mind is racing
Her bones are breaking
How does your hair feel about her hands?
Her soul in yours?
She is the girl made of wood
She lives in the distant net of time
She looked out
Through her shipwrecked and forlorn eyes
Spitting myth erotica and hip prose
Looking like the fucking Queen of Sheba
Crowned by the most ancient of waves
Emblematic ecstasy
Intrigue swirling all around
And then there was you
