I cannot hear the old earth breathe
Through the loose leaves
I can only hear machines
Sustain the city
And the motion of my body's aligned with the way they are designed
Stiff and instructed
The rain is blistering on the glasses
And slowly pushing
Towards cherry blossoms clinging where
The wipers cannot reach them
I'm safe inside the walls of my skin, they won't let the waater in
Every time the wearth's reimbursed I remember who I am
Fragile and fortunate
I cannot remember when
I started to believe in
Imaginary ties between
Comfort and contentment
A dog will eat all it's fed
And hunt a stick time and time again
Is the coyote less content
On a cold night, sleeping with no bed
Did our insticts lose mystery
When we assigned them vocabulary
It's tragic
We are small things, what are we if we're not that?
