Every swirling incantation
Every kick a spell upon me
Curves of light, eyes closed in passion
Bent to make of me a maker
Dim and dusty preservation
Once my enemy illusion
Craves of me a tapestry
A mad and wordless history
Twist your hair to thread of fancy
Loop your steps in mesh of wonder
String your eyes in constellations
Bead your songs in wild mosaics
A tattered net of exiles' stories
Dark and glistening of truth
Takes its form among my fingers
Bent, abashed, deprived of scissors
Sorcerously your freedom binds me
From my hands, your testament
Swings below the dying world
To gently shroud its precious shell.
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