You spoke to the raw, ticking part of me.
The viscous blood that pools in this turbine head
You saw the graves I dig for myself
And you helped me shovel down
The rain in sheets upon our ravaged backs
As we fought the granite masses of the soil.
Toiling. Soiling. Spoiling.
You and I are boiling oil.
We spill over vestments and scorch the eyes that watch.
I cling to your immortal hold on me
Parasite love. Burrow in deep.
I go on forever.