The blind space of low cloudsThe breeze that moves themOver my forehead/third eyeThe moon that hangsHalf and orangeYour letter sits by my bedRode all the wayTide-twisted from ChinaHeavy in loveYour words spring towardMy dreaming dreary brainI suspend your pictureHand's length from my heartRemind me to recycleChange my underwearAnd take in my bicycleFor all of its energiesLife's lazy in loveThe in and out is activeYour letter sticksTo never be resurrectedMy hands are glueThe sink is the funMy hands are glue
