Swing around on your fixed throne of sorrow

Pushing on hardened feet the world away,

Away, let the landscapes slide and disappear

From languid eyes and parched open lips.

Tears have always been ungrounded, you know,

Unhinged like your throne and flowing like your hair,

Falling on newly sun-warmed hips that twist as well

And have no memory of what once seemed so cruel.

Swing around, lose your world. In time you’ll find

It was but creeping ivy wrapped around loose wrists

Dripping from fingers that forgot their grip

On both life and sorrw, perhaps a lucky chance.

Let it swirl, let it turn on its head, a head it never had,

Let it grind in the asphalt of your fear, my dear,

And rest.