Deep in the belly of a whale I found her. Down with the deep blue jail around her. Running her hands through the ribs of the dark. Florence and Calamity and Joan of Arc.
I became a thin blue flame. Polished on a mountain range. And over hills and fields I flew. Wrapped up in a royal blue. I flew over Royal City last night.
If this was the cold war we could keep each other warm. I said on the first occasion that I met Marie. We were crawling through the hatch that was the missile silo door.