i've been washing myself
in John Baptiste's fury
more precipitation
of our seasons
saturated by the come'n'go
wait and see
the white swans before we die
crashing naked bodies
in a dirty L.A.
swimming pool
we succumbed
to their glamorous scartissues
carving our egoic existence
that time when you
soaked your hate in
the summer sun
died over and over
like a fish jelly scattered
on the hot sand
we still remembered
our mother's womb
the development of
the caterpillar
butterflies only lived
in our stomach
reproduced on rusted
trains towards
divergent universes
towards
the infinite self.