Can no one fall from the frown of the circle
tree trunk heavy from past trust tithes
Deep blue eels that run under the skin
ready to cut, taking fronds of blood
Chant for triggers, for lapses, for minds
finish my turn when he's had enough.
Clothed fringed with moments of madness,
as we claw at their pig skin seams
Tear the etiquette away as we fall.
The beast corners tired synapses of the mind
Treading trenches in pathways he can find.
Devil licks my memories as I leave myself behind.