Map of Prophecy/Banquet of Feasts A big orange ball in the hall. Be it small? One small ball in the hall is all. Right beside the wall. - Fryme thee auld Ballad auf Prenatal Timing I'm as naked as a song while my mean old darling pulls at the vines in her hair, as always she'll leave them in the drawer. She mutters, singing as she picks at the odd bits of pin and other scrap left clinging to the gnarled wreck of her crabby string. I watch her from our bed and sing. I watch and think about long curved needles that mimic the angle of Carmen's spine arched as it is over her low breasts and the folded towel on the floor. Her broken knees argue for sleep on the hard wet wood. The dear to the other, This option will bring me sweet, She asks of me? Over the music I tells her, It'll bring you sweets. Hard to find in the corner with your eyes covered sweet sweets, it'll bring you everything Carmen. Make me think of this like I want to be there, open up your eyes too.