i count myself lucky
one two three
that i am no tragedy
they say it’s in the blood
four five six
i sign with relief
as my lovers push me away
say i do not know the sorrow
seven eight nine
i am in trouble now
i am understanding the grief
histories of it in my belly
ten eleven twelve
my skies are grayer here
but i pull the blinds shut
so the outsiders only glance
thirteen fourteen fifteen
the rain washes the ice away
and brings a new spring
but it is a passing fad
sixteen seventeen eighteen
they are wondering now
what darkens my eyes
so i show them the blood that floods my bosom
nineteen twenty twenty-one
oh how their colors change