Tanks of Flies
I had the verbal touch
The silver sliver of nexus
Carved from the bloody water
First-poured
Form drowning
Pulling down the moons and suns
From the thighs of the queen
Of grace and grinding
The bump, the bribe, the breasts
Made me slyly arise
In clouds of candy
Tanks of flies
Tanques de Moscas
Eu tive o toque verbal
A mecha prateada do nexo
Esculpido na água sangrenta
Servido pela primeira vez
Afogamento de formulário
Puxando para baixo as luas e sóis
Das coxas da rainha
De graça e moagem
A pancada, o suborno, os seios
Me fez levantar astutamente
Em nuvens de doces
Tanques de moscas