I wrote you a song, when I walked past our car park, 3PM, but the sun hid from me, streetlights, saying hello, far too early, as I danced beneath their pale glow, all alone, losing my mind, lost in the night that we met.

One of many daughters, I drown, rise, and drown again, dancing on the shore, in black lace, while the moon admires me, from the safety of the sky. Are my problems all that problematic? I calm the waters, with the wisdom, that what happens is temporary, hiding in the depths, that I call home, humming…