Altitude

Pull this corset of stone from my waist Take me to a lower altitude I don't need water I don't need food Take me to a lower altitude I am my own hangman Sleepless and wandering I wring my stained hands  We will not sleep tonight The snow field I am in Spreads into the sea While forfeiting my shoes  A cloud crosses the moon Outside your window  You can see me If you want to look Pull this corset of stone from my waist Take me to a lower altitude I don't need water I don't need food Take me to a lower altitude In the maple chair I made You sit and wait for me You hate how we left things, and honestly We'd resolve it the next day Wind pipes up in my ear The sky is now clear Across your father's plot I am beckoned to come near I will not Pull this corset of stone from my waist Take me to a lower altitude I don't need water I don't need food Take me to a lower altitude Resisting the primal urge To rip meat off the bone Chronic wasting disease  Agreeing blindly with what I feel Rising like worms from the mud Sharp cedar trees and leafless buds Black like beneath in caves Its dress flows towards and away like waves Tomorrow morning Under a sky of blues She will find my shoes A grave and gouache painting Pulp pages with no binding  An axe with a strange ending Pull this corset of stone from my waist Take me to a lower altitude I don't need water I don't need food Take me to a lower altitude Pull this corset of stone from my waist Take me to a lower altitude I don't need water I don't need food Take me to a lower altitude