We probably said I'd better not
Better not claw angrily at God's ankle
Slip my silver fork into the empath's cradle
Where phyla of plants tickle the head
Of that marble-eyed wonder
That perfect bead...
A cone, her stem and trunk
A canopy raised now tickles the stars
And her leaves falling like withering tears
But they become good dirt
But they will feed the Earth
Oh I know, and it's me
Hiding up in that tree
Telling people things they don't want to hear...
Oh, I know
And it's me.
My sides slipping through branches
Like freedom of expression
To get this off my chest
And onto my back
Like a spine
A shadow who cares by not caring
Because caring is careless
So it has to be someone, something
It would have to end sometime.
A graceless satori in the desert of abstraction
Surrounded by children of Aquarius
The self is now, will we rage later
For water?
I lick the fangs slipped inside me
Does wrath come and go innocently, gently
Like swishing scales?
Or will she sing her Roman nails?
It's not bravery but obligation
In good remembrance of Adam
Before I was scared of my own shadow
Let's deal with this later
I'll let fate do all the math
And let thorns emerge from heaven
To save your child, Mother