lay down, may she row, sarshar-sharade
make current up-down the spinal tree
from Afghan deserts to the inside of me
sigh to all of our enemies who loved
lived and died by their windy tree
where they were blown out to a farther sea
let go, know, believe I am gone farther
where all the dead sing as Angels fall in fire
sleep so, watching o'er you
some come from beside your bed
when the wind seeks them out for tears
to shed, for the ocean needs them
don't believe me my tears
loose yourself in yours
the wind has come again
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