viernes, 2 de abril de 2010

DRY LIPS, DEAD KISSES




Look at us and the sins we’ve saved to get here.

Blood-brethren borne out of desperation, while we ridicule our ancestors

we parachute bales of saccharine sympathy, smashing them under cardboard bridges.


The day I manage to sever myself from you, I´ll know what it feels like to be shoved against sand,

to hear the sirens wailing,

the kiss of the hammer that folds.


Look at you:

Biting nails off to kill the hunger,

exploiting arpeggios gut-strung in beasts.


Praise, praised the wisdom framed in your steely smile.

For yours is the body that towers over my pantheons;

and mine, is the silent heat you left behind in the winter named lust.

How I see you toppling, scratching the skies of forgotten conquest on your way to the ground.


Look at you: can’t you see the wrinkles you’ve carved through your coarseness?


Thousands of tears sailed forth to warn you of the screams of the schools of the Crimson Sea,

and the pillows who weep,

and the sin of Love,

and the idle crescendo and the knot in my throat,

and the sustained pleasures,

and the pain in my skin.


Whilst you keep forcing your eyes, perchance you may see, the other side of the mirror that’s Me.


Don’t look at me then, you won’t be able to tell smirk from smack burnt into my plastic face,

you wont see the herpes, won’t see the hostile alchemy distilled through my eyes.


I am:

Tracing circles punctured by dots on the sand.

I’ll squeeze the neck of your conditions, knee deep in the rivers bled by the wounds of our Lord.

Ill beat the rhythms outta you, bent in abhorring our swan song.


Love yourself, but only once you’ve loved me

Bind it well, from this sham of a ritual there’s nothing to keep

Huff and growl, your breath is so foul and you need to squeeze flesh into juice so you can

kiss, kiss and baptise…

…goodbye.


_____________________________________________


Fields of black vinyl, we were drunk on black tar whilst you whipped lost civilizations on the back.

You, who saw us grown down.

Concrete coloured toads gave depth to your words while dying on your morning palate.


Oppressed in repetition,

you never were able to camouflage your own frontiers.

You drowned you in thirst.

Your spikes tried to rape us through colossal orifices

As the earth wouldn’t surrender its obsession with swallowing our feet.


With three iceboxes sewn along your spine, you, love of my life, murdered our home,

while I drooled, nodding to your ancestral lies,

I signed on the line for your version of life.


_______________________________



Joined at the shoulder, we twist our eyes towards our decomposing lips

DRY LIPS!

DRY LIPS!

Don’t you get what I’m saying???

DRY LIPS!

DRY LIPS!

Care to guess how this ends?


Yeah, let’s look at ourselves:

not even a pale reflection of all that we’ve lost.

Yeah, dry lips and dead kisses.


________________________________________


Don’t look at me now, cause I’m sinking.

Soon enough I’ll be cloaked in a vulture robe.

With fingers bared I’ll cook you a meal your guilt won’t forget

and Ill beg, grinding my flesh on the rack, for you to lick it all.


Because I am weak

Because without you I am not.

I’ve been infatuated with silence for too long.


Yeah, dry lips, dead kisses