Boi/Fire
i’ve come to soften the sound
in corners granting entry into the
aggregate
leaching blood from your body to make
the most of looking at liters
of love
lover of the strained race
thin like sinners blood on our bandages
bottomed
by tops of pulsating
pounding
lions on maimed roads cursing the fire
that fell from their eyes
throbbing
with arrhythmias that won’t live to see
them stopped
désir de vivre and the hatred of saints
with eyes of a thousand swamps
sucking
the boi from the blood
a desiccated perspective
kept in cages
mangled
by might
by night
by burial
the lion in the fire’s skies
fucking the weight of worry
mounting
the headless representations
of living
burning it all to the base
by freedom
by fire
and the boi on the bottom
looking
to love to keep seeded the sound that
makes millions a listener to the
anatomy of
divinity
