So the woman with worry will drink more,
she is young like you-
watch as I spill colour into her face
by kissing her mouth gently,
I swallow her worries

We'll embrace because desire persists,
we're foolish women
who keep trying to thread marble with a needle-
moving in slow long rhythms
we keep trying,
to perfect our dance of yesterday and the day before
and each time the rhythm seems to improve
becoming a whole new spiral of music
with notes that we've never heard before
consistently longing more

again and again I see, we've been sewing stone