The Woman
I need to tell you something about her. I slathered in grease, The despairs you owed me. I made them shoot, Magnolias.
Blessed be the fruit I bite upon, and forgive me, father, for I have sinned.
I slathered in grease, The despairs you owed me. I made them shoot, Magnolias.
Woman, O Woman, I painted over, Your cracks to build, A monster that, Eats me now.
I feel the crunch. My bones on ice, And a tongue charred crisp & black, From easter heat, To our spectacular dawn.
Woman, O Woman, I blister thee, with Pain of my own And the itch of the stars.
Woman, O Woman, I slathered with grease, The despairs you owed me, And made them shoot, Magnolias.
I see through the lens Of your freedom, Into distant worlds, Wild and fantastic.
I dream of time, I dream of space, I dream of god, And I dream of you, Sometimes, woman.
I seek no gold, For all I have owned, Is all I can lose, So I live to build, Statues of our own, woman.
