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Lydia Ainsworth
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PSI
No ceiling's in the benediction field
Tumbling through the contradictions, Dear
Feel them crawling upon every limb
Visions of a wold beneath the skin
Feeling things we've known but never seen
Hollow twigs that snap beneath the beam
Separates us in our minds as if our passions could divine
Sign from seal
Right from real
Places that we know we'll never be
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Won't stop us from our trying hard to see
Through icy pastures laid in beds of mist
And strange marks left upon our wrists
When the fifth joins soft coordinate of Psi
When the streets remind me of our hollow ties
When the spinning settles me as in that place so far away
We are earth and clay
We are night and day
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