2019-10-18 / Wiwan Cw’o
I take the bones from out my hand and give them to the sea
A pleasing song of aftermath where waves roll unto me
1,001 spiders weave a tomb around the setting sun
Then the lava creatures bring me gifts of gold and grapes
In the rivers of opinion are all whispers made of slaves
The list of lines are serpentine and coil above the trees
And make new homes above the stones the raptors of the seeds
Where falling glass and quicksand are delicate reprieve
This circumstance of rivers’ glance is draped across our eyes
The flickering of tonguelike knives and sticks at once was paved
Re-circumstance the fire plants and moons beneath the soil
The army ants and prominence with heads below the foil
In parallel the mirrors are the times that echoes chase
With any stave and heartbeat are the soldiers on the ground
Who can’t behave reflect the caves the spectrum spins around
I take the bones from out my hand and give them to the sea
A pleasing song of aftermath where waves roll unto me
1,001 spiders weave a tomb around the setting sun
Then the lava creatures bring me gifts of gold and grapes
In the rivers of opinion are all whispers made of slaves
The list of lines are serpentine and coil above the trees
And make new homes above the stones the raptors of the seeds
Where falling glass and quicksand are delicate reprieve
This circumstance of rivers’ glance is draped across our eyes
The flickering of tonguelike knives and sticks at once was paved
Re-circumstance the fire plants and moons beneath the soil
The army ants and prominence with heads below the foil
In parallel the mirrors are the times that echoes chase
With any stave and heartbeat are the soldiers on the ground
Who can’t behave reflect the caves the spectrum spins around