Lavender lipstick giving a goodbye. Compressor snake skin around my thigh, Like a tapestry I can hang on my wall. The prophet; the arc moving slow. Something to worship: something deformed. She’s putris and knows how to harness her glow. Crumbling, reducing, Aiesr melts the snow. She gives me a root canal, head on pillow. She gives me my own thoughts, pills & pressure. Mambo guides me through a polluted swamp, Stands with me as I crawl up the tyrant’s sleeping throne. Driving my heel into his scales, I impale him with his own crown. Straddling the fussy little man, I scratch and open his chest. Emerge; creep forth the cycle of life. Your hands will no longer drown.