You strove to be good. And then you met me.
I measure myself by how much I can see.
I saw your hands and feet
And all your other things.
And found them sweet.
I heard there is a land where those like you
Must hide the foot within the shoe,
Where love is covered from head to toe.
Is this wisdom? Or a desire to know?
Which tree are you in the wood?
Which singer in the choir?
I was knowing you only to know
The desire to know desire.
I love you more than what you are.
I also love what you represent.
I love your hands and feet
And also you, dressed in white, under a white tent.
