Ring Song

…When that joy is gone for good I move the arms beneath the blood. When my blood is running wild I sew the clothing of a child. When that child is never born I lean my breast against a thorn. When the thorn brings no reprieve I rise and live, I rise and live. When I live from hand to hand Nude in the marketplace I stand. When I stand and am not sold I build a fire against the cold. When the cold does not destroy I leap from ambush on my joy…