Ea ad hortum suum revertitur
In a grey garden, I twirl: may.
Shadows applaud my pulse: may.
Chains rattle, cell within cells: may.
Still I spin, soul unspoiled: may.
Porcelain armor cracks; petals fall: may.
I drink cheap fire; laugh at saints: may.
My heart, wild meadow, fanged with light: may.
Love shows teeth, yet blesses: may.
A slug, dear ally, glides nightward: may.
They call you slimy; I wink: may.
Bravest of souls begin the dance: may.
In this odd waltz, I endure: may.
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