Whisper me lulabye as I bleed through blackened hymns gathering at the river arching my back and you answer with tongue from down in your tote peeling the petals of my flesh, spiting seeds for the pagan’s rosary, fucking all that is holy in the name of Sodom and Gomorrah, on Route 666, by passing god’s abandoned gas station, letting the moon run red lights down my spine while the radio plays dead sex, we are the children of a bad religion…and the ghosts of our sins rock us to sleep.
- on
