the rise of your chest  bellows and rest
the eyes of your investment   in me
the falling mane we form together
drapes
                                   into our milly pool
                              into our night attacks
     we act out civil villainy  and pranks
   we didn't mean to  but  we were spilt

   all the gutted sources of our majesty
bedroom headquarters and missions
   abroad from there  lead them to stare
our belly can hold all the resulting
                        birds of yellow vulgarity

they come to our door
                    with glowing phones raised
and we answer
         leaking behind our death-masks
they've chosen
                      to take us far too seriously
and may strike us down
                                             anti martyred
          alabaster heretics
                                laughing