Standing on the hillside
Stilled winds blanket my skin
I close my eyes and embrace
Worms born of skies and clouds
Blank are the colors they inspire

Lying on the hillside
Earth's feathers caress my limbs
I close my eyes and imagine
My bed sinking beneath the ground
Under may I breathe better than above

Falling down the hillside
Sunless upon the town, small and wilting
I close my eyes and remember
Sensations akin to this, akin to innocence
Come the end of my fall, will either of us stand?

Before this old hillside
A body still as corpses about the air
Open eyes shimmer, puddles of rain
Ashes, dirt and dust swim about this sprawled figure
Clothing for naught, now flesh sings with Her whole