1. |
bloom
05:22
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cold hands pressed against cold glass
impossibly small
you stumble your crooked steps
unaware the season has passed
sink, sink, your face on mine
like cream folding over ice
what used to be some strange fear
I looked in the dead eyes and slit its twisting throat
to break the earth
to weave yours roots
to be the sun
to watch you bloom
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2. |
pinned wings
06:42
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our once bright stars fell
from out of that tired sky
a stiff crescent from their long tails
their paths keeping like a scar
with some work I could hand them back
ask the night if it missed them
pin their wings to that dark sheet
let them hang dead and beautiful
a crumbling memory
from their core hollowed out
let it fall like dust
let it die
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3. |
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ritual circle
your swirling ghost
dripping black candles
in mystic pose
the spirit chokes
a chain rent
earth peeling open
wet and sweet inside
begone
begone
begone
begone
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