Some days are for consolidation
some days are for transformation

You cannot hide your vestigial tail
your belly is ***
your jelly is hot
stumped cut off salamander trail

I am the secretary of my sensations
my magic is my weakness
you must invite me across your threshold

It's pretty uh *******
only four miles from your house
say it's semi mediaeval, but
great stuff for the launch pad, and
something about the bleakness, the
overbearing concrete structures

Some of the evenings may require consolation
some of those nights end in devastation

Lies are exotic, and the truth
the truth is pretty basic