| If the black hole targets me again, I’m not human
|
| And if I’m anonymously ominous to him
|
| It’s cause I’m not human
|
| In the snake pipes underneath the drains I’m flowing with the rains
|
| If I was light through your window at night I would fall on you so I could
|
| watch you change
|
| Into a magical cartwheeling radical, the kind I found under bathroom light
|
| And under blankets where the snake queen of snake dreams makes sounds
|
| Like fur rubbing boxes at night
|
| If the black hole targets me again, it’s cause a star died
|
| And if I’m anonymously ominous to him, it’s cause I know why…
|
| On sticky counters, every pound of hers makes a difference to me
|
| And in the orchards the moonlight casts shadows on her thoughts about me
|
| One breath of smoke goes and covers up the apples, the fruits from the tree
|
| The silver light makes tinfoil out of cold snow and the ice looks like mirrors
|
| from the sea
|
| But just a shadow I be… |