[sinning hands]

the river still may rise
wild and water take us both
mine are sinning hands
take our bodies, take our clothes


-iron & wine



[wash]


oh, immerse me in the music, in the noise and sound
until my pores overflow, until my lungs fill
and all i breathe are the notes,
the feelings in me rise and swell with the crescendo,
the rhythm of my body, of my mind,
all blend with the chords in progression as they
march down my spine,
washing away the dirty film, the tensions of the day
at rest, have gone away.

[porch rose rust]

there's a woman down the street
with roses on her porch
cultivating beauty amidst the mire
spiraling forth from the earth
a natural beacon, haven for
perfumed thoughts and winged hopes.

there's a woman down the street
she's selling her roses
like she's selling her soul.
the swinging sign in the yard reads
"for sale, inquire within"
and on her face, the chagrin
in wrinkled lines tells many tales.

yes, she's selling her roses,
like she's selling her soul.

there's a woman down the street
and she's in her two feet
and she feels love
while water streams down
filling in the cracks
of the vines that rise up.
they are striving for the sun.

oh, she's selling her roses
while the porch swing rusts.