|
Suffocated by mirrors, stained by dreams |
|
Her honey belly pulls the seams |
|
Curves are still upon the hinge |
|
Pale zeros tinge the tiger skin |
|
Moist as grass, ripe and heavy as the night |
|
The sponge is full, well out of sight |
|
All around the conversations |
|
Icing on the warm flesh cake |
|
Light creeps through her secret tunnels |
|
Sucked into the open spaces |
|
Burning out in sudden flashes |
|
Draining blood from well-fed faces |
|
Desires form in subtle whispers |
|
Flex the muscles in denial |
|
Up and down its pristine cage |
|
So the music, so the trial |
|
Vows of sacrifice, headless chickens |
|
Dance in circles, they the blessed |
|
Man and wife, undressed by all |
|
Their grafted trunks in heat possessed |
|
Even as the soft skins tingle |
|
They mingle with the homeless mother |
|
Who loves the day but lives another |
|
That once was hers |
|
The worried father, long lost lover |
|
Brushes ashes with his broom |
|
Rehearses jokes to fly and hover |
|
Bursting over the bride and groom |
|
And the talk goes on |
|
Memories crash on tireless waves |
|
The lifeguards whom the winter saves |
|
Silence falls the guillotine |
|
All the doors are shut |
|
Nervous hands grip tight the knife |
|
In the darkness, till the cake is cut |
|
Passed around, in little pieces |
|
The body and the flesh |
|
The family and the fishing-net |
|
And another in the mesh |
|
The body and the flesh |
