we boil

[Manslick]

my last song
should be enough to cement me
in the record of the willing
and rows of the dead

no word has ever been written
like mine, she said
so I look up from my feet
and smile

oh, you too?
I say "It must be catching, I quaked my world this morning"
'news reel dispatching'

she smiles again
white blue eyes
tell me
we know

the morning so low
lazy dust lands
far away sound
slow blow

now her look
I start to cook
we boil