I move through shadows like a bandit,
with a silver knife between my teeth.
Drops of lakes are rolling down my face
I jump the fence, I pull the curtains.
The seasons are trapped under my armpits.
The spring melted my ice, wetting your skin.
I die and emerge in the worlds of sin
kept safe and sound behind your eyelids.
I have risen from the clear salt lakes;
I’ve traveled on scales of two blue snakes
to take you to my ancient sanctuary,
hidden in the scents of thyme and rosemary.
So walk on your rosy toes; the past is sleeping.
I’ll see the folds of the skin above your heel;
that’s where butterflies rest every evening
until the bell of our hell begins to peal.
I’ll hide you between the scars under my rib cage-
they’re mere paper cuts compared to your pains.
We’ll leave this tragedy, this bizarre stage,
we’ll crawl on snakes and into my salt lakes.