Tanzih

My left handed heart is still painting your face
Over the walls of my dim mind
These contrary winds hiding under my eyelids
I hope I can stomach the weight
But each bristling wave is an unfinished thought
Swept out of view by the next one
I've tried and I'm trying to string them together
But oh what a waste of my rope
Like a disappearing act...
On a lofty brown bed, treading masses of blue
I started coughing up questions
There's a giant asleep under all of this water
I'm searching in vain for his name
Written on my tongue: there is none merciful but God
Iron pinned you down
You were coming unstitched
You were flickering
And you didn't have time to ask why
Something was circling our heads
Was it the patron saint of death?
And I heard you spoke from your new grave
That there is no truth that will not fade
Well I guess you'd know better than me
It was noon when the rope gave out
Somehow nobody saw the stroke fall
Guess we all thought misfortune asleep
Instead of hiding his face
After all of your wandering
After so much sun baking your skin
Still the wind it would pierce you straight through
And it saddens your soul