Hush, hush, hush.
Break your skin against the stone.
Climb your legs up to the top
Of your brittle little bone.
Rest a hand upon the eye
That rests itself and
With a sigh.
Show yourself;
Show yourself the words.
The meaning of the glory of
The irrelevance of the church.
Brush your hair and
Hold your thighs.
They quiver just
Like your insides.
Like when I touch you in the moment.
You're shaking now.
You're shaking.
Hold it.