The Pale Girl's Walk

The whitewashed sands are blowing across the meadow The hill upon which she stands Her legs spread apart Feet turned out. Her head wrangles side to side, like blades within her toes That sprinkling from ground Do grow up and up The anchor. Her face is white and whiter still, all the blood be gone The sign of the aorta pumps bleat Ventricles slam shut Jolt of silence. The whitewashed sands are blowing across the meadow The hills upon which she stands The body that leaps out. Her limbs roll down.