Finite Journey’s
to incarnate worlds
I try judging all my footsteps on the prisms of the girl
I tread on the ground where the devils fear to tread
I must have woken fifty times in your eyes
or in your head

And now, my darling darkness
how I wish to make it clear
how a history of men
could rip my mouth from ear to ear
but I could tell you,
or show you
that you’d only just blow on my lips
and they would part voluntarily
for they are yours, and never his