floss through my hair
banjaxing, rucking my skin
wipe the sweat off my forehead
and let me collapse into you
till i’m folded all in one

you want out
of this machine too
you do

please orchestrate
mutter my low grade
i want to slenderize into you
i want my dripping locks subdued
enough to make me pray
“whisper my name”

you want out
of this machine too
you do

cut into my flesh
and remove my defections
adapt my skin to the crown
agent to my tongue
slipping in and out
of my mouth