Out of the snow I rise with my red hair

so much that everywhere I land scorches

the black gravity haunting the white air;



From the darkness

I do not think the sky will take me.



I may go home, and pick up crystals

on the road.

I may eat fire.

I may cut pieces off my clothes.



This is my crown, this is my sword,

I have come to be divine on the vellum moon,



I have come to turn blue.

I am a smiling woman,

Do I terrify?



I am pink and yellow too.

The more I burn the more I rise,

A woman this stupendous never dies.