Hers was a long, was a long way to go -- mine was beside her, was behind, was alone -- ours was as cyclone, was as wind to the bone -- ours was a teardrop, falling deep, and deeply known -- falling slow, and slowly shown, falling swift, and swiftly blown, blown below our covered home, our covered bodies… Shed me to teardrop, I will lead, I will bend, I will be your body, I will turn, I will tend, I will lend my silence, my hands, my how, to be known as your cover, I will seek, I will leap, I will bow… Thank you sweet, I can hear you now, you can hear me, now, listen deep – Thank you deep, you can hear me now, I can hear you, now listen sweet… Mine was a cavern, was a crease beside the road, filled up with fossils, as a walker to his load, filled with a river, dried with a moan, while Hers was as thunder, was as light, was as will, was as throat…. Words I fly, Breath as tide, Words to be, Loved as child… And the Great was not yet shared, but approaching them in pairs, in a whistle thought and felt, in a lightning to the heart, "to each you are a part…" Taken to the heart, the heart a spiral to the sharp, and sharper still the quill return, re-turning out and upwards shrill and blinding, out my eyes, remind, re-mind me, out my soul, resound, re-sound me, this the ground, the shape is sensing, this the whole, the part is making… Thank you sweet, I can hear you now, you can hear me now listen deep… Thank you deep, you can hear me now, I can hear you , I can hear you now