I am a tree grown on your shore
 
even if I were cut and burned
my sticks and flints and roots and flecks
inside your mud and rock
churn
 
So dig this big crux
 
not even the sand
not even the sand
can part us
not even the wind
not even the wind
can part us
not even the waves
not even the waves
can part us
 
not even the shore
nor the sea
can part us
 

Filed under Psychic Reader