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Description
Inlaid wooden tumbling down

hilly mountains as if searching for a

designated landing zone.

The ash of yellow rock covers pores

as if sealing in the heat of days come and

gone, seeking to smother the process

of breathing in

and out, out, out,

out and

in.

Deep sigh fixtures, dry; hot hot

heat, bulbous lantern strung out on

heroin inflated quakes burned this hole

in our hearts. Spinal stretch,

lunging over cleft, fingers and palms

transform to pulp and granite. Insurgency

crawl in desert dust, milky way sand, it

bites at sparrows and sears into its wings.

Spiraling back up to Earth, back up to soil and into the gravel

pit that filled your head.

Go ask Alice, she'll point you to the

resurrection of cushion and soft fur. With your body in

natives dancing to and swinging to drums,

and in you're mind you've recieved your release -

and you're friends whispering with their stocked

lungs and empty souls that "He's hers. He's hers."

Well you're mine, mine. And like my ancestors, I'll raise

your life to the sky, call on rain, call on sun, call on it.

We'll throw your body over the cliff, escape, elation.

Freedom to guests, you're mine, mine, mind, mind.

I hope you don't wish you were deadlocked in

someone else's death. Cause my hips

are circling, my feet are beating, my hands are

pulsing over your grave. Your grave, your mine, your mind.

Hope you don't regret the exclamation, cause this

throat is trumpeting with notes of skin peel.

Description
Inlaid wooden tumbling down

hilly mountains as if searching for a

designated landing zone.

The ash of yellow rock covers pores

as if sealing in the heat of days come and

gone, seeking to smother the process

of breathing in

and out, out, out,

out and

in.

Deep sigh fixtures, dry; hot hot

heat, bulbous lantern strung out on

heroin inflated quakes burned this hole

in our hearts. Spinal stretch,

lunging over cleft, fingers and palms

transform to pulp and granite. Insurgency

crawl in desert dust, milky way sand, it

bites at sparrows and sears into its wings.

Spiraling back up to Earth, back up to soil and into the gravel

pit that filled your head.

Go ask Alice, she'll point you to the

resurrection of cushion and soft fur. With your body in

natives dancing to and swinging to drums,

and in you're mind you've recieved your release -

and you're friends whispering with their stocked

lungs and empty souls that "He's hers. He's hers."

Well you're mine, mine. And like my ancestors, I'll raise

your life to the sky, call on rain, call on sun, call on it.

We'll throw your body over the cliff, escape, elation.

Freedom to guests, you're mine, mine, mind, mind.

I hope you don't wish you were deadlocked in

someone else's death. Cause my hips

are circling, my feet are beating, my hands are

pulsing over your grave. Your grave, your mine, your mind.

Hope you don't regret the exclamation, cause this

throat is trumpeting with notes of skin peel.