White Sheet Lightning - Tiny Ruins

In starts up the staircase and in fits to the room

As swathes of ocean meet, melt and form again

In measures, colours decrease in the steam

As in my roof-top white sheet lightning dream

Catacomb village, sandalwood your skin

I’m your tether’s end, you’re my everything

Oh honey biscuits, when I sensed you’d outdone me

Could have forged up the mountain, I left for the forgery

Striking a claim for us, apply the flames to us, softly

It’s a delicate business, and you know just how to charge me

Is that something taking shape, is that something taking flight?

So carried away, lightening, sheets of white