Marked, for good measure,
By knife or ink or ring,
Scented, sprayed and harnessed,
Quash the soul that wants to sing.
No worldly possessions,
Leave all past stories behind,
Bring me no honest confessions,
Come, with open heart and mind.
No markings of boundary
No quelling my tune with your song.
Wide open, voluntary and welcome.
Only then can each belong.