numbed blooming alloy from scream to mumble hip hope of the only authentic ones
Catatonia my tongue is slipping down my throat as the serpent lips in my spine
which is choking too into the arrow note green note la lutta intoned against coaxed honor
there were no words on there that body hadn’t articulated when it said bending in every
endlessly sturdy austerity ecstatic you won’t need those chains
Speechlessness the place where thought collects like a hive and hides in like effort in the
force of grace
Is the other side of the scream at the primal scene swaying not yet saying no which hums like undeserved offering not yet saying indeed which lies
like yesterday same as saying nothing is so alive I’m a music Maafa a muse in her
Atavistic visceral hold up that’s the girl’s name a silent killing some strange voyeur
Yearning for herself who she is strangling
