Not Our Vows, But About Our Vows

We were built like the wind,
hands for feet and feet for fins,
chasing Love to the height of heaven
and to the depth of sin,
we were cobras thick and reflective black skin
known to crawl there and back
and to spit the poison gin,
dare to dish the worse you can give
'cause we can take it on the chin,
we'd swim through orange ropes of fire
to save a hapless lass from the lost hope of her disaster
while ten men together could not find the courage
to extend a single finger within,
we did not pretend to defend the lowliest hearts
and next of kin
but always sought immediate and swift revenge,

we slept in wolves' dens,
broke our lives on the rock
and the rock upon our shins,
we bathed in donkey glue from tip to tail,
lipped up milk from the swollen breasts of lactating females,
signed our signatures in blood with quill pens
and repeated our vows every now and then,

the old fog whistle spills down from the hills,
covers the valley in its lonely sound,
I haven't seen you in years,
but you're suddenly back again.

TA