Isla

I'm combing my feet
As the months go by
The water at the tips of my toes
Mixes the sand and the fish

I want to be ready for the world
If there's a world ready for me.

I'm an island out of myself
Don't go out looking for me
I'm an island out of sorts
A great fire of glass:
Where the sea is the sun's mirror
Where the sun is the sea's mirror
And I clear my mind
And I clear my mind
Before January begins
And everything starts over.

I'm combing my feet
Taking care of moons and corners
The water at the tips of my toes
Leaves pearls on my heels.

I want to be ready for the world
If there's a world ready for me.

I'm an island out of myself
Don't go out looking for me
I'm an island out of sorts
A great fire of glass:
Where the sea is the sun's mirror
Where the sun is the sea's mirror
And I clear my mind
And I clear my mind
Before January begins
And everything starts over.