For you, my love, I’d hang outside The gates wherein the saints reside & there I’d glide with fluid grace A fool who finally found his place Yet chose to stay astray, exiled Unwanted, wanton, stunted, wild Wasting time as I decay Still dreaming of some distant day When flayed of mortal pain and fear We’ll both cast off our stained veneers Then arm-in-arm, we’ll twirl and spin A whirlwind of discarded skin
