King of one/King of three

I am sitting here, wrapped up within the quilt of demand,
Opening a window, closing a door, counting to ten, whispering into her ears.

I am holding a red book in my left hand and a torch in my right,
Focussing on the wonderful places within the landscape of her fears.

I am writing three words on one line and five on the next,
Hoping to be heard, hoping to wash my sunrise with her tears.