Yours is clay
What is mine, a tome?
There's only one way
To the lair of the minotaur
Sat spinning centre
Shocked twine mentor shall I bind
and bend my mender

I'm trying too hard
To keeo my voice as gentle
Seeing spots in a state
With my hair in my hands in my eyes
I sat down at the plate
Were we spelt to stay?

A whispered word
Even water walks back sometimes
Won't you?
My hits hit sixteen
I felt fits begin to sit between
and I found that I think as founders think
My legacy unstuck to sink

In the end i think I wrote
I coughed up the lump
You built in my throat
Flung what we've undone, I don't
Want to be a footnote