Holy Death
Shane McCord
The tang of her ocean rhymes with another
In canopies of sweat and absence
I was laying on blue carpet reading shapes of her thinking and doing
When I still believed in promise and all I saw were paintings
Woven into the grass, am I true nature?
Tied into the trees, is that what I'm after?
The lily on the pad rests softer
Death
Holy Death
It just takes an instant to find the end
A chain of lights can't symbolize the sunshine as I try and try to redesign the outside
Her face windswept in flat landscapes, sun on the shoulder
Foreign birds sing that mourning song
The taste of her saliva becomes an idea
Death
Holy Death
It just takes and instant to find the end
Death
Holy Death
In just an instant we found the end
