Zest

I waul, what’s that I begin to crawl.
I cuddle on a wall there are moving colours eyes in flowers.
I think I’m under a bloody shower and someone shrivels me up.
Now I simmer down and I’m lying down.
I see the moving colours and hear the laughing flowers.
I feel a comfortable warmth 'cause I really know what to do and what to choose
to feel a zest.
I need a zest to crawl.
I need a zest to fall.