Tapping and tisking in the corner
Slowly cooking in the softness
To have glued my hand in place
Slap my body into true definition
A fire turns inside my guts
And my face, and my face screws up
In delight, in delight
Like the violation of your body
Like the pieces they fall into the holes
Like the flakes of skin in my mouth
Ah, like the ever rotating sky
The violation of your body
The pieces they fall into the holes
The flakes of skin in my mouth
The petals are trodden into the carpet
This sentiment carries no weight
(Like the ever rotating sky)
To have felt the depths of life
And the drowning shallows of death
The storm of the half-sleep, the half-sleeping storm
Out of the blackness of incompletion
Into the politics of inconsequence
(Like the ever rotating sky)