If you were looking, you may see
A body suspended upon debris from some degree
I thought was me, and feverishly
Annihilated any chance for success for a pretty dress
With blue and white flowers.

And if my hands are spent from mining dream houses,
Blocks of lapis and small sheep will heal me.
I'll let you control daylight to save me and bring me back
If I wander astray.

I've become heady with hedonistic days, but for her ...
I construct torturous scenes of a patriarchy
And spend hours packing small girl eyes and their hearts
With cotton wool.

I'm too far away to see him but if he hurts her
No God will know me.