The Ice by Phish
I press on the elastic sheet, I'm breathing through the
slice
'Are they worms or are they serpents?' bubbles through
the ice
The source was quite invisible, the ever-present voice
While skating, both legs tracing different shapes, I made
my choice
Mimicking the image in whose radiance at bask
I'm tied to him, or him to me, with anything you ask
None the less reluctantly reflections tumble in
I slide with all the other on the wrong side of the skin
He's falling on the ice, it cracks
Will he plunge in and join me here?
He meets my eyes, to my surprise
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