Incantation Part II.

and you’re smoking cigarettes, drawing out bitterness,

lacking emotions, yet you come in with the fury,

come raging against me, your eyes spill oblivion and claw their way out of pain.

and you’re smoking cigarettes and taking hits from the pipe,

higher than God could ever be, in the heavens you swarm, bees buzz in your wrapped brain,

haunted by the disdain for the world, ushering me into a new world, telling me to trust no one,

but I trust you, so what is there to cling to, when all we do is rush about,

pretending we’re gods, but less holy when we fuck our way to the top,

but not on top of each other, in front of the kingdom, the gates are golden and bleeding,

these veins pulse waiting for you to get another drink,

while I shuffle my words in my back pocket,

watch you cascade, an incantation to the demise of your past life.

You kill every opportunity to rise, this power is cutting you up,

I am involved, so what does it mean, I could never contain all of it,

in one place, as the rhythm glided on your skin, to be apart and pull apart,

all transaction.

And you’re smoking cigarettes, brushing against me, some sort of magic in the air,

god-like, but every reason to be more impressive, it suggests, we are rising once more,

in the dissolution,

an incantation, written in our discipline, in your bitterness,

i will kiss away every agony with my touch,

and watch the fires burn behind your brown eyes, dead eyes come back to life in the dirty midnight,

where sunset came and took all pleasure out of you,

what to do, we have some magic here, I want none, so you take all of it.


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