Music sounds like garbage after MySpace is done with it. Plz 2 b looking at the "Downloads" section to the left, mkay?
After the war
they rebuilt me in my own image.
Here I come!
I'll step out of a cloud for you...
...a crowd, I mean.
Look! I'll dance our names
into the autumn rubble.
Tap, tap, no big production.
Perfect I am not:
Frankenstein's monster.
This real me's a
mockery;
I have lightning for blood.
Hee-hee! It tingles.
I'll blow myself a kiss in your eyes.
(Did you know?
Mine are now light-adapted.)
Tell me how you've always known
this thunder I stole -
known it was mine all along.
Perfect I am not
as I take flight,
rustling,
my doves mere pigeons.
But I'm as far
as the earth and
striped stockings
could ever hope to fly me.
(Now may I -
I wonder -
for the beat of a heart
be your handful
of wind-blown petals?)