Woven Hand Deerskin Doll
You are a fine noise
I must take care for you
My heart my head on the ground
To speak of such things
As the sound of your wings
I have not the breath
In my brides eye
And by her side
And by her side
You are the noise
The elktooth chain
Lovely in the rivers mirror
You stand in my circle
The circle of my center here
It will take some time
To get to this point
Remember you are spinning
Around the room
I dare not rest
My hands on my chest
Vashene osh miashte means yes
Means yes
The branches all creek together
All out in the open
Inside a roaring figure on the wall
The streets are cobbled just for you
The silver sun in my cellar well too
I hear a mocking voice
