Well, we won the lottery today, my friend.
Our eyes opened and the world woke up, the blood
of generations runs in rivers over our bones.
Above the waters, a wind.
One more pirouette belongs to us,
in the contracted dance.
Did you step outside your door,
and see how the stars have burned to warm your little treehouse?
And the outer wind
calls your secret name.
Today and tomorrow, and then we’ll be dead. So what?
Nobody brags about getting lucky twice.
This earthly round trip ticket will suffice
to spend the gold, until it’s time for bed.