Its hard for me to hear the earth above my own heart.
My veins pound and throb with thunder. It’s a strong heart.
Far from here, beholden to the moon’s slow liquid pull,
Tides suck at the sand and subside to the ocean’s heart.
Lavender the sky, silver and gold in turns, pink,
A painted backdrop to ravaged visage and stone heart.
As moon to tide, so stone to blood as I stand here
Filling with red sand the cavity in my heart.
Exacting exclusive devotion in its wake,
Sweet incense from my altar, whispers from my heart.
I am your daughter, Bonesinger, Stonesinger,
Stumbling in gathering gloom towards my own heart.