Queen of Cups.
Queen of Swords.
Dogma inked arms raised-
above the hordes.
To be one word, it's untoward.
A visual vigilante versus the overlords.
The candlestick yet to be etched-
See the light, be the light simply sketched,
by needle and blood onto her thigh,
Because a world without honey-
breeds the vinegar fly.

In the midst of covering my body with the map of all prophets-
I'm Standing at the bus stop next to a poster child billboarding for profits.
Singing, "Get Better."