like a butterfly out of a chrysalis stars on your skin begin metamorphosis change again; the worm to the silk thread covered in light, you are covered in light the flesh on your bones lights like a lantern the blood in your heart beats a new pattern the city inside is where you first met her covered in light she was covered in light She knew you by the look in your eyes Oh how the wings will sting and the light will blind you Undoing is a painful thing but it will bind you to the One True Thing: Everybody hurts the same Everybody bleeds the same Everybody goes through hell And somehow is made whole again Covered in light you were covered in light I knew you by the look in your eyes I knew you by the look in your eyes

on my own i stand today and whisper the music of the sage alone and trembling i am not afraid as the horses run out the gate i placed a tarot card in your hand and the Empress smiled as she turned to sand all my bones disappeared but here I stand no body, no mind, no face I could swear I dreamed this before everything looks so clear; every note, every pore my fingers lifting the latch on the door and the smell of my fear AS IT BURNS ON THE FLOOR and the words of my mother echoing once more: child, you don't have to be afraid sayin' child, you don't have to be afraid cause everything in this world gets eaten alive every cell of every tree every bee in the hive dies alone in the warm mouth of Time but everything's gonna be just fine cause i feel something moving my pen when i write like i feel something tugging this dark Veil of night Ten thousand stars and all i'm asking for is a sign familiar music of a word in flight or the taste of your mouth as it turns into wine the histories in the moon and the poems in the sky the Red Pony sweating between my thighs as across the Dreaming we ride and we ride and the dreams of our fathers the screams of little girls gathered like cinders at the end of the world the fire burns faster if you give into the swirl of the madness of this age the madness of this age.... and I've never been so old i've never been so young as when a story writes its life on my lips and my tongue burning like the monk who knows that he is one with the beautiful ashes of the cold winter sun kissing life like a bullet screaming from the gun at the mouth of the Rose where glass webs are spun and shattered by a finger don't know what it's done.... it's just a part of the Mystery wrapped into one the painful coincidence that burns my lungs with every breath i see death but am born to the sun; a tree growing green in a crematorium