Your fingerprints and footsteps make music in the disparate caverns,
Spaces where you have grown and continue to feed and prosper.

The rich can afford to play themselves little symphonies,
Describing to themselves something singular and secret,
Divining a way through the sacred vows that root them nowhere here now.

Full consequence envelopes you
Yes, sometimes with convenient skins of black,
Manufacturer plastic covers clean what keeps coming back
Black velvet gloves that feel so nice
Behind a lover's back.

Shovel dirt onto that grave and settle down with what you are,
Be a snake or an orphan--
Take care and be well.