It is the sound [1996]

It is the sound of water churning in the dark
dark distance that, through the glass,
is my peace.
I smell ginger and cinnamon
and pepper and garlic
with each breath, the spirit of wood and fabric
Liquor enough.

It is the escape of mind churning in the dark
dark distance that, o'er the miles,
is my peace.
The feral relentless tides
of our own creation
with each breath, the spirit of woman and man
Poison enough.

It is the silence of thought churning in the dark
dark distance that, between us,
is my peace.
You brush your hair out
your eyes, knowing not
with each breath, the spirit of love and life
Music enough.