In slumber I ran to you
We the children
The  gatherers 
It is cold  in the woods
We found back country
There isn't much time now
Over and over we pull
Porcelain from the earths belly
I lost you in the thicket 
But would  not awake 
With out you
You are recovered in 
The tributary you
Are washing the incisors 
I will make my share a penance
You said Penance be damned 
I trespassed near ungodliness
But you said I can't go back now
The teeth became our crop 
Endlessly I will reap what I have sow