What the water wants is hurricanes,
And sailboats to ride on its back.
What the water wants is sun kiss,
And land to run into and back.
I have a fish stone burning my elbow,
Reminding me to know I’m glad
That I have a bottle filled with my own teeth.
They fell out like a tear in the bag.
And I have a sister in Detroit.
She has black hair and small hands.
And I have a kettledrum.
I’ll hit the earth with you.
And I will crochet you a hat.
And I have a red kite;
I’ll put you right in it.
I’ll show you the sky.