Lying lazily in the venus chamber rose-tinted and arabian damp,
the rifle rests nearby, and twilight the color of corpses glows in the blinds.

Beyond, chimeras velvet mechanical gnaw and bud,
spilling out babes crazed and crucifixion stained.

And I know I was spilled with them,
with my back scarred with phantoms of missing wings.

But just like my seeds are boiling in her tatooed altar,
my plot is defining itself.

With my lungs rendered sore by the milky smoke exhaled
and lingering like ghosts of melancholy, the chamber fades to black.

Then my skull begins turning with the planet's core,
and into the alien forest I go, hunting for another kiss.