My moving form
Makes ugly knots in the wind
Many long fingers bent in pain
The meadow, slick and sewn with frost,
Ruined as my footsteps crush webs
Into the marble

I curse myself and the warm steam curls
The moon's gaze is broken as i pass

And my shadow starves the moss of light
A sharp branch scrapes my cheek
Pierced and stunned i frailly ask
Was debt repaid?
Slowly i am spurned
The branch had snapped

In the clearing light is low
And lower near the sulking brush

I lay down my things
I would bleed into the earth
If it would not break the silence

I would enter the ground if it would not make it warm