in the hands of every bashful mother is a quiet delay some calm to recover accepting all kindness and blindness to all them who fire away demanding a reason and i d never beckon or for one second dare ever call you away o but they sing embracing for you our bodies exhausted fall sideways to lay and your arms made a place where my face liked to bury then lifting but drifting away to where the angels would play like you d almost forgotten and then on with the next breath so impossibly new like the curve of your waist all warm and ceramic and smooth i dont want to go home i want to come home