Wingless Wildfowl

Kissing electricity burns.



My lower lip turns black.
No rambling heart.
Dance and dance and keep the stag alive for this flaming machine will never open its eyes in daylight.

Useless. I keep moving the bones in my back but the feathers grow bigger than me. I don't even need to move anymore the feathers themselves let me float, sometimes they cover my face. Skinny. Feathers grow everywhere. A halo sorrounds and moves beyond my rage. Groundworms come as soon as I call them. I didn't knew how many of my wings were still here. Greatest red and they come back (a spinning backache and fever makes my pores turn into volcanoes). The curse drives me dry. The witch had to pay. Now her head hangs as my token of bad luck. Bellicose. I'm coming home. Love and war I do both.



One day to see your face. One day as the serpent.

My head jazzes a swing and rocks a blues.
Having sex with you was always awesome.

But this metallic garden full of junk is the last place I'll find us holding each others' body.