The “In the Lake”
Adrian Orange
In the lake, where the wind made your skin made of paper
You tore your arms and hands around you
And you point the echoes toward the cold air
And the words are yours, you
To climb, the sky, into
And the water swirled and snow white rushes
Falling down in clouds and blankets
And buried my head and my eyes up
And I looked, I just saw and looked
‘Cause the words are mine, too
To climb, my home, into
