You hide your hair in the
space above your tucked-away thoughts;
waterfall wor
                        d
                              s
that
            run
                        into
                                                           strea
                                                                                m
                                                                                                s
of consciousness
out of red dam lips
and through airy pipes
to my manhole ears,
stepped on and discarded by feet and prams
for century's years.