The Upper World

Lavender lipstick giving a goodbye
Compressor snake skin around my thigh
Like a tapestry I can hang on my wall
The prophet; the arc moving slow

Something to worship
Something deformed

She's putris and knows how to harness her glow
Crumbling, reducing, Aiesr melts the snow

She gives me a root canal, head on pillow
She gives me my own thoughts, pills and pressure
Mambo guides me through a polluted swamp
Stands with me as I crawl up the tyrant's sleeping throne

Driving my heel into his scales
I impale him with his own crown
Straddling the fussy little man

I scratch and open his chest
Emerge; creep forth the cycle of life
Your hands will no longer drown
Your hands will no longer drown