The fire licks the edges of my ribcage;
and I scream with delight.
But then I see you look over,
and tell me with your eyes to be quiet.
My thoughts stream across a line invisible to you;
but nevertheless,
you try to cut it down,
so that my world is gray and blue.
My drum beats to a rhythm; out of tune;
I hear your screeching instrument stop,
so that you may take my music away.
And yet every night, I get down on my knees,
not to bow down to your power
but to pray.