Whistle

Eighteen coming like thunder Platinum bangs and you under Driving high on the Cliffside Black rocks bared by the low-tide Vapor-girl The hissing car Barely veils Your fleet of stars Palm on kerosene lantern You, curled soft as a kitten Hitch-hike over the passes You, queen of cutting classes Vapor-girl The hissing car Barely veils Your fleet of stars Crossing north to the island Your ringed fingers in my hand Puppet-strings over Coltrane At the twins in the grey rain Vapor-girl The hissing car Vapor-girl The hissing car Barely veils Your fleet of stars