In amongst the whirlpool storms,
I burn the pains that creep pre-form.
I burn a path through waters wild,
I burn the pretend, three-eyed child.
I burn nostalgic trust-fall dreams,
I burn the ends of candles clean,
I end the climbs on artificial walls,
I climb to the ends of worlds' waterfalls--

In echoes I fall for fossils who call
With hints and suggestions and like a snowball
Into each relation, familiar nation,
I roll up in layers potential summations,
I gather together in piles and in patterns,
What look now like rungs spun in time around Saturn.
But in this dangling dream, My Love I will waste,
And suffering him so, would all This disgrace.
 

--In between the rollercoaster curves,
I sit with patience, spit with words,
I hold my stomach, lined with drugs,
I breath for stardust, pixies, blood--
I won't release the striving sting
That drives both dances and small things!
If chosen thoughts named determine my life
Then naming's my game, and play is my knife.