vill(i)anelle

[souledoutt]

Get your ass to Mars, he said,
Your blood spills in strands in the afternoon sun,
Chandeliers hang half-holy above your bed

Something sewn into your knees drags you heavy like lead,
And the linen on your eyelids wounds, the spindle undone--
Get your ass to Mars, he said,

Lazy liquid lava pours into your pretty head,
And it feels nice but it is no fun,
Chandeliers hang half-holy above your bed

You fall into the eyes of the living and the dead,
Everything too-close but empty like a hollow gun
Get your ass to Mars, he said,

You are the black cat's eye like his body was the bread,
Counting blessings like arithmetic, fivefourthreetwo one
Chandeliers hang half-holy above your bed

Permanent planets spin inside you, angry and red
You are never alone; it is something you cannot outrun
Get your ass to Mars, he said,
Chandeliers hang half-holy above your bed

P.S. happy birthday albert einstein!