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.