am I the apple of your eye
or the carrier of seed
which you desire to pluck out
bursting forth from the canvassed young
a power that drives men to murder
listing properties and warrants alike
a mad scramble for power takes place
listless bodies litter the ballroom
ball gowns and slippers led them here
now, they know needles and highs and lows
men without clothes take and give and kill
nobody ever leaves, not by personal will
you think you’re awake but you don’t know
the bloodshed right before your eyes
skulls and bones are a monastery beneath
let the two become one they say
so six men go inside of a girl who is barely six
months
old
