Why is the water
So cold on my back
When it steams?
Why is the light
So cold on my face
When it gleams?
I am a sack of damp pebbles
They churn in hand
Why do they scrape as they scream?
I am shadow to warmth
I am chilled to light
I am Oxbow to stream
Why is the knife
So warm in my chest
When it stings?
Why is the scream
So warm in my throat
When it sings?
I am a sack of damp pebbles
They churn in hand
Why do they scrape as they scream?