Now the morning was gilded around the edges With the shavings of bones That were pressed and glued around the corners And carved like soapstone It was gloriously grey The sun a radiant underlay Fighting, fading, winning, waning Purring behind milk and cloud and snow Now the blinds are up a foot from the bottom I make out outlines of ankles, legs and asses A fresh set sends blood to my ears As the memories flood the levy of my boredom And the final sinewy strand has been cut clean through There is a pop, a crack, and a thud And you are free and I am free now To extricate ourselves from the mud So you practiced your name in the margins of pages Of a hundred thousand rough drafts I heard they roughed you up pretty bad You got to climb up the mountaintop and scream out loud And chip your teeth on a bottletop and do me proud When I held your hands in my bloodfree hands I swear they were the cleanest ones in town Take your time and let the tide pull you out to sea Take your time and let the tide pull you away from me
underlay, bloodfree, bottletop, soapstone, sinewy