Only Skin

The cities we passed were a flickering wasteland
But his hand in my hand made them hale and harmless
While down in the lowlands the crops are all coming;
We have everything
Life is thundering blissful towards death
In a stampede of his fumbling green gentleness

You stopped by, I was all alive
In my doorway, we shucked and jived
And when you wept, I was gone:
See, I got gone when I got wise
But I can’t with certainty say we survived

Then down, and down
And down, and down
And down, and deeper
Stoke without sound
The blameless flames
You endless sleeper

- Joanna Newsom

Posted in Flatbeat on Thursday January 15, 2009.