tongues, lost in me
yours be the sharp and the vile
glide 'neath my skin
storm through my nerves

i bury the nomad years, hours in the earth
couldn't exercise those searing, pecking tongues
immune you say
yet venom strikes in strangest guises
as the viper in our eyes

tongue, throat, tongue
slayer of the world and stealer of vision

a monumental reign of terror
throats slit up to stain the target
we're food for the hounds of trauma
prey to the hounds of stress

no power left to retrieve my stolen language
filtered through the illiterate fingers of death

flies
let sickness be poured
from the cupped hands of bedlam
to cover the fruit
the fruit of my wounds

tongues, lost in me
yours be the sharp and the vile
glide 'neath my skin
storm though my nerves
nerves

on account of their brightness
i made friends with the word and the moon
went with the tide and left for the sound
of dead instruments thrown out of tune

the red-squared patterns
dragonrise and evenclaw
decoying from pandemonic symmetry

tongue, throat, tongue
slayer of the world and stealer of vision

tongues, lost in me
yours be the sharp and the vile
glide 'neath my skin
storm though my nerves

a dissonant note
in the music of the spheres
the streak of promise
in the nuclear sky

whipping black tongues

aching to
lick me back
to life redefined
to inject
their truth
within me now

See also:
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11.43
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