Ancient with history and silenced bees for the sake of sweet nothings and battered lungs
Fangs and blood forsaken drums
A shakin’ mantra
Sayings by deities; Godliness in celetial rites in the mornings when the nightmares are haunted by my dreams.
Alive to Awake.
I have seen Gold men lay secrets in between mental hospital bed sheets.
Come stains and slits
Bits of depression held by the Indian Ocean Orient in their being.
I have seen the gorrilaz and the savages of the unseen time
Unregulated by the sun
I have seen sayings.
Loaded guns and battle ships
A war torn heart in solitary confinement
Bombs and incense
Khrishna holding a bloodied sari because his Godliness had been wrapped in weighed gold.
Recordings, flutes, trombones, drums
My feel saxophoned by bits of depression held by the Indian
Sang by Nigerian prostitutes in rouge lips