Diane Hine - Captain Bryce in the Amazon lyrics

Beneath Buriti Palms, my outstretched hands caught fruits macaws dislodged from high leaf fans. By carolled forest choir, I set my fire and watched as stars illumed its thin smoke gyres. A tree branch held a nimble-limbed Margay. Invasive bugs inflicted nagging pain. My anger was an anodyne to pain and powered the machete in my hands. When evening fell again, the sleek Margay was watching parrots' vibrant feathered fans. I turned; a jaguar's eyes were sulphur gyres. It leapt and streaked my skin with liquid fire. We spun as one and sprawled across the fire. The jaguar fled; my body blazed with pain. Unconsciousness forewarned with nauseous gyres. I dressed my bloody wounds with shaking hands. In darkness, insects swarmed like lovesick fans and watching all was silver-eyed Margay. The distant yet companionable Margay was witness to my trial by fever's fire. By dawn my skin was flushed with spreading fans. Infection weighed my limbs with drubbing pain. The strangler figs closed in like murderous hands. I pressed on through lianas' tangled gyres. Then madness pulled me down in drowning gyres. I tripped on bu*tress roots and found Margay. It spoke and stroked my brow with soothing hands but all around the forest crackled fire. A spray of water cooled my world of pain. I walked into a waterfall's limpid fans. I woke and felt a palm leaf's gentle fans within a woven home's ascending gyres. The voice which broke my shell of muted pain belonged to Edelweiss and not Margay. She smiled and said my wounds were cleansed by fire. L's looking for Hope, she said, patting my hands. In dreams, Margay and I raft river gyres, cut thorny vines with hands which feel no pain and plunge through flaming emerald fans of fire.