I’ve Been Dead Before

A butterfly of a young traveling acrobat

With bottled wind to cease my sail

I’ll linger in the twinkling tent for luck

Another chance to choose my tale

A wish upon sallow psychic Grace

To live with arms and legs, and face

She grants thy flowers for kissing

skinny arrows for missing

howling echoes for singing

And coquette's death for smiling

But I’ve been dead before

I was born from the past

and I have sung before

like ticking clocks on a tightrope

I leap softly from her satin shawl

Will I see Madame again?

She is without my whim

and my wings soothe her balance

Fear not my rose

You are brave in your dreams

Let the world balance for you

For you can still fly in sight

She will walk tall in her tent

And as you glance your song to the sky

Let her dance with surprise