My darling,I'm waiting for you.
How long is a day in the dark？
or a week？
The fire is gone now ...and I'am horr...horriby cold .
I really ought to drag myself outside,
but then there'd be the sun.
I'am afraid I waste the light...
on the paintings and writing on these words.
We die rich with lovers and tribes,
tastes we have swallowed,
bodies we have enterd
and swum up like rivers.
Fears we've hidden in,like this wretched cave.
I want all this marked on my body.
We're the really countries.
Not the boundaries drawn on maps,
the name of powerful men.
I know you'll come and carry me
out into the palace of winds.
That's all I wanted
to walk in such a place with you,
An earth without maps
The lamp's gone out,
And I'am writing in the darkness.