In a tower to the east of ottoman fair

Lies a lady in white combing her hair

And no matter how frightened or otherwise worried with care

She’ll always be

Quiet

Her silence

In stair

l am she who plays the melancholy tune

The thump-shump gone unheard of since babe was in womb

The eerie cry of a whale that is beached and blue

I’ll always be

Wailing

My violence

In loving you