Brushes swirled in muddy waters

My maker, you have used for my heart

I reach and reach

For the blue-black sky

But the tips of my skin sack make it shy

Away it runs with nary a taint

Of ink and orange sunset paint

On fingers of dirt

Terrible flirts

Doomed to love beauty but never have it

Cursed with youth but live in funeral outfit

All dances under stars

All songs on guitars

Are puppet motions, ugly rigged

Are nonsense notions, barely missed

By the lovely expanse, indifferent

Take anyway, till I'm all spent.

And only death will be my springtime charm

And smoke from my pyre will beg for alms

Will you then take pity and breathe me in

For I am now the heart of the wind

My sky, my sky, I'm beautiful for I sinned.