There that was a lamp
Right there without hands
If I sing it will color white
That it bundles into glass
The river wakes at that rock
I have memory of fire
Fire that claims its own ends
When we sit
On two white chairs like this
I pretend to be human
Knowing well
That I cannot not tell
A tree from thin air
Your hair, I walk past
To your eyes
I’ll stand before I fall
I’ll stand before I smile.
