I could not sin not would not win,

a day across the oven floor that wished it was an ocean,

I saw the see that was not wet,

beneath a wave not i could not sea,

for through the day the moon shone higher than the sun at night,

we called her name,

she did not answer for she was not dead but mute with life,

I soaked the silken dishes in meat sliced from her hide,

and in the sun when the singing was sung,

I saw her face against the earth that was once won,

catharsis of a missing limb,

I wanted it to let me in,

but upon the form of Sinatra himself I found the wings of myself..