What the water wants is hurricanes, 

and sailboats to ride on its back. 

What the water wants is sun kiss, 

and land to run into and back. 

I have a fish stone burning my elbow, 

reminding me to know that I'm glad 

that I have a bottle filled with my old teeth. 

They fell out like a tear in the bag. 

And I have a sister somewhere in Detroit 

She has black hair and small hands. 

And I have a kettledrum 

I'll hit the earth with you. 

And I will crochet you a hat. 

And I have a red kite; 

I'll put you right in it. 

I'll show you the sky