icelandic dreams reassure me so i can sleep
curl my fingers around matthew and dream
gentle brwn waves and gentle brown waters
broken by beauty and old old summers
faded to make the pages yellow,
and a little burnt from dormertory fires
god i miss it
the whales miss it, too
why would killers whales appear in dreams if they didn't want to be there?

post-mdern princess promises me that i'll get what i deserve
it's just on a frequency appearing foreign
but the waves are there
buoyant, lifting, lifting me up until i smile and cray and gnash my teeth
god, i can feel it!
feel where i met it and went my seperate way with it
i can feel it from the shores of lake ontario, coming across bright as a cross
i can feel it from a miniput course covered in store

and somewhere, deep and buried, i feel it from the pages of a book
inky printed like tar rubbed in
coming across as the lightest brown dusting
how deep, i wonder, how deep
i cannot smoulder forever without being fed
you must, you know, you must

oh god, the whales
i see them surface and fall beneath
from arms grown thick with distance
i can look back to the water, and wonder

will i get what i earm, what i deserve?
i asked when i wondered, and i've got my answer now
i'll get it
i'll be given love
it's a frequency wave and it's a heartbeat
seperated only by miniscule walls of flesh from mine
beating and trembling, because you act so well
and we spoke from golf courses
and we laughed

and i was everyone's sister, once
just like the door wil be open soon