Before rebirth. I know a death must come
I’ve seen the change when life collides with death
There are no simple dreams, yet there are some
That feel just like a prototypic breath
The wetness of my infancy is clean
Interpreting the water is my task
I think new life is what this dream may mean
I breathe and cry and then I need to ask:
Is this my life, my death, or something more?
She kisses every tear upon my face
She knows what each empassioned kiss is for
She guides me down to her most sacred place
I move and feel my answer start to come
I know “la petite mort” it’s called by some.