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I know you begrudge it
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but she will bless you in heaven.
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This is fool's work. Y'all should'a laid over a day.
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Water's gonna go down, ain't gonna rain no more.
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Surely ain't gonna get no higher.
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It's the turning back. It ain't no luck in turning back.
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I give her my word. She's accounting on it.
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The dark current runs.
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Talks up to us in a murmur
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become ceaseless and myriad.
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Fading swirls move along the surface for an instant
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silent, impermanent