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WE COVER OUR HELLS
We cover our hells with roses
and fear foreigners digging deep
into our glorious projections
the stinky growth from diseased weeds
no gene therapy can erase:
we reflect the chaos as gold
trying to shed the crust of small selves
invite death for a change and lick
the narrow lake between the thighs
it's more voluptuous to float
in the sky and come out transformed
with Kali's blood-dripping light and grace
and recast the seeds of destiny
in undying flowery perfume
without fear of quake or collapse
