I will lose myself in this world.
In this culturally free-wheeling
Dealing, needling, bustling
Insane international realm.
I will lose myself in you.
Just for a second.
Like Pandora and Ophelia
Rolled up and wrapped
In a baby-blue rag
That universal tragic
Pagan girl of the world.
In this place, all walk on knife-edges.
Alors! I shall pick my favourite
Escape, my favourite excuse
To cling to a slipping dream.
Or… perhaps… hope/delusion?
Or simple illusion.
But this world is cloudy, silver crystal
The hard, brittle pinnacle of human arrogance.
I shall pick my favourite hazard then,
In a castle of shadows and stories and dim light.
I pick you.