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LYRICS
For
Asking for
Feels a little like
Turning towards
The walls of your eyes
Or counting ants through the fog
​
And turning towards
Feels a little like
Searching for
The whites of your eyes
Or catching bees with my tongue
​
And searching for
Feels a little like--
​
I can't tell you how to live
Though surely, I will try
​
I can only place my head beneath my feet
Orb Weaver
Orb weaver, why don't you stay home?
You've sutured your fingers to stone,
But one of us has got to keep count here
​
You've woven the sky to your threads,
But now your garments all cover your head
Which one of us is waving through the weave?
Like a cloud through a screen--
What kind of veil has you so caught between
This reflection of reflection of the sun
​
Orb weaver, are you still not home?
You've fashioned new fingers from stone,
But one of us has got to keep from cracking
From
Warm, to hear the voice within us
To sit me down and say well done
Formed in pink, impatient purpose
Inertia in our violet suns
​
Born with the seeds embedded in us
Hysteria within my arms
Torn from the branch for our own purpose
The fruit stand has begun to rot
​
And the violent waterfront is overreaching
And it's not enough to just want the dust of me well-formed
​
Because the woman I know is shifting in my skin
And the woman I know wants more from me
​
Cardboard box of free fruit from the pomegranate tree
The tart whispers in my mouth, terrifying seeds
My skin's torn ginger root,
Rough, knobby knees and elbows
Fibrous harvest of the earth
Too tough for our gums
Losing all their teeth
​
And the spider in her grass is slowly spinning
And it's not enough to watch without a weaving in my hands
​
Step lightly before you go from
Photograph by Mark Caceres Photography