But isnt it frightening what years will do To even a spirit spun in the very

But isnt it frightening what years will do to even a

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But isn’t it frightening what years will do
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To even a spirit spun in the very velvet of song? Isn’t it frightening the way light will let go Of a heart that was once forever dancing, Releasing you now to the metal mold of constructed ideas Where hear somehow holding you from me Now folds you into terms of Conservative Republican Christian, While even Jesus knows I was never born from any adjective, I was born from you. And I couldn’t care less what you believe, If only you would just believe in me, ‘cause I am still carrying round our chord. I am still shrouding myself in the lost chorus of your womb Hoping someday soon you will look and finally see me. Look. I am that little girl you held at three, That almost-woman at seventeen. I am that woman at sixty who will sit by your side and hold your hand while you die. I am that woman now. And if you forever choose to shred the blankets of our blood Whit the knives that hold our differences We will both forever sleep cold. But I will never forget the perfect warmth of your soul. Will never forget my mother knew That fairies danced on basement walls And her song The way she sang it when she woke me Would take me to a place
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Where my feet could walk on ceilings And feelings were always smarter things than thoughts. And I am always that woman’s daughter.
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