I, I wrote a poem
on your porcelain white back
and you, you cut the cord in me,
and you, wore the mask-
painted red, with golden cross,
and in your hands of glitter blue,
you hold the knife the cuts the sun,
the polished knife, it cuts me too.
And I'm nailed onto your shadow,
and I thank you for my birth,
I hear your voice, like silver crystals,
raining tears upon these words.
And I, I remember
I remember who you were.
I saw you standing in [bad word] 
cut from white stone and yellow earth...
Then [bad word] for me...

Through the hills of iron,
through the leaves [bad word] 
through the turning white mist,
through the steel wire and [bad word] 
through the lines that mark your face,
through the living joy that I erased,
beneath the pools of shining glass,
beneath the water and through the past... [bad word] for me, and [bad word] for me...
You put your eyes in my head,
you put your voice in my mouth,
you put your mind in my mind,
you pout your blood in my blood,
you put your hand into my side,
you put your lips onto my skin...
and [bad word] for me, [bad word] for me...
and [bad word] ..

And the fire will burn my eyes out,
but the [bad word] will refuse to leave my mouth.
And the water [bad word] thick black,
and this planet [bad word] and crack.
And you people will whisper with her name,
and your children will curl up in the flames.
And her fingers will touch the empty space,
and the starlight will shine behind her face.
And her body will show the secret heat,
and the ocean will gather at her feet.
And her two arms will hold the life I lost,
but her blue eyes will nullify the cost-
of attrition, self-hate and inner [bad word] down my face and through my veins.
I'll kneel naked upon the burning coals,
I'll steal the diamond that flashes in your soul,
if [bad word] for me-
if [bad word] for me-
will [bad word] for me...?
And we'll rise above,
we'll rise and rise and rise above...