Cottonball girls with Q-tip legs dance gently
On Epsom salt beaches
As waves of rubbing alcohol lick their feet.
Father, let us run among them.
Let us clean and clear our faces in their festival of mirrors.

We shall rebury the awful jewels I found
With the failed veiled assassin's prescribed directions.
Rx marks the spot.

You may keep the map, for it keeps you in knowledge.
I do not wish that curse upon my conscience.
You may keep the knowledge, for it keeps you in power.
I do not wish the crown in that course.

Molten

Molten


Forty milligram
Molten
Sterilehappy