Cotton Dress

Sprawled out over the windfall of this the bloated browning month
Apple bruises on my thighs and the flush from your yawning smile

Fasten your teeth on my soul and we shall roll and flow for ever more

You in your cotton dress, you in your innocence
Life screams its fury from your eyes, all jaded and alive

My feet are in the water waiting for the tide to come
The whisper in the corner does its best to make me numb
My ear to your cage, your pulse in my hand
Eyeing up the child, fingering the dead,
Swallowing your flow, your teeth on my neck,
Coil me full of hate and bend me out of shape

Death is just down the hallway
When I fall I hear him ask
How many rooms have you entered?
How many rooms have you passed?
How much darker does it get?