Leavers Dance

My hands and feet are worn as much as yours are ...

and though my head, my hands, my heart are forming..

They still feel worlds apart..

Beneath it all you're golden and that's all I'm feeding on..

and though my head, my hands are growing colder..

We move in circles now

........

There's no release at all

that's not worth dying for
and it's not for our desires

but our design

that we all fall apart...