DELETED SCENE

Re-this, re-whatever, your boobs

Reinvent me.

Set them in the pot, set them on.

Pour water over all the gold pieces

Of my thigh and smolder.

Choose a bone and boil it

With flesh from your feet.

Say, my bone is your fruit.

Say, your boobs are birds of the air

Scaling columns of moons of blood.

Choose my flesh to soil and enter.

Re-this, re-whatever, your columns

Of thigh and shoulder

Reinvent the bone and set the moons in a pot

With their blood on fire.

Pour birds on all the rich pieces of your boobs

Until I am the same smell as 

Death crawling without a ruler, singing

The silence of Earth

Before us.

VIBE

I see few stars.

The worlds are sooner and sooner.

I read while paying

The overcrowded brains

Many people

Born from babies barely breathing

In a world that's sooner and sooner.

I look for stars on top of you, it's

Like photographing a forbidden execution.

And I pay to barely breathe

People and parts of country

Moving outside the evacuated air, passing

Through bodies and sending money back

So we can live under suns and build power

With bloodshot walls bearing too many gloves 

Wearing fingernails unwilling to talk.