voices stick to your feet
do they touch the ground?
somewhere in the desert they watch your scalp dry out.
they try to read your palms, but your sins wrinkle when you shake
there is a child without a middle name or face
royal blood soaked up all of discovery bay
eldest son sleeps in god's pocket
they found him at the bottom dressed in papier mache
his family made masks of his face
i'll wear it while smearing mascara all across your vase
bury your head in the sand
released April 4, 2017
all rights reserved