been asleep now for four days
curled under the snowbanks
and stained by the night's mouth
the grim spin of cherubs
writhing where the air is thin
I'll be heaven's red hatchet
because all boundaries
were born to be
erased
so breathe in and set it on fire
what good's a cure merely implied
just breathe in and set it on fire
believe in this frenzy of mine
tonight, my trembling tomb
your stone calves barely move
so be my eyeless compa**
I don't want to have limbs
writhing where the air is thin
so be heaven's softcut gla**
preserved in the palaces
of worlds we made
but never inhabited