Joanie

February crackles within her armor Joanie, do you envy her? Even wrestling wildfires She buries her heart in her footprints Oh, oh Joanie Smoke humming down a log's bruised neck The spruces they burn black but they'll sprout back up again Would I show who I am, if I knew this world would end Or would I snuff sparks as they catch? Joan, your ghost, it roots from my stomach to my throat Branches splinter through my lungs begging me please let this grow Oh do you not tremble at the thought That we could both go up in smoke? Is it the first gasp, or final breath that hurts the most? Is it that rise from fiery night to an indifferent dawn's cold To heal new skin but be buried in the same old Clothes? Ooh Joanie Don't you wish God would rip from the seams? Grip our hands, tell us what we should be Stop these men from messing with the strings From reducing God to a wood for burnings Should I breathe smoke one day? That's for Joan, that's for Joanie