What the water wants is hurricanes,
and sailboats to ride on its back
What the water wants is sun kiss,
and land to run into and back
I have a fish stone burning my elbow,
reminding me to know that I'm glad
that I have a bottle filled with my old teeth
They fell out like a tear in the bag
And I have a sister somewhere in Detroit
She has black hair and small hands
And I have a kettledrum
I'll hit the earth with you
And I will crochet you a hat
And I have a red kite