Sometimes in the Land of Fall and Twist,
you hear the underwater bells
clowning full in the west of the deep

But every time I want is gone;
this choir of unforgetful things
forcing up through empty shells

Can make believe that distance is
the cover turning at the world
making difference indistinct

Muffling changes in the shuffled pack
or turning over single pages twice
to reinvent for me the time

When you were away in the world and alive,
and the risen lord half-heartedly
curled your fingers around the book
and marked the chapter closed