| 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 |