Steeped in atrophy
I am
By no means exhaustive
Merely a lifeless yet optimistic, hyphenate
The bastards son of holes, and holes and holes and holes
And
Holes
And mechanization.
But I've got water, so goes the scale of C.
Limbless exploration, limbless extirpation
I am an unholy son.
On the cross, you saw my skin.
See my eyes, see my sin
The bastard son of holes and holes and holes and holes
And water.
I feel ugly under the palms of the oligarchy of religiosity
I feel ugly under the palms of the democracy
I feel ugly under the palms of the matriarchy
It is the trappings of sunlight in every breath, expiration
Emancipation that comes with mortality that comes with sunrise, sunset
That comes with the pangs of growing up and old.
That comes with the pangs of growing sedentary
That comes with the pangs of shedding plumage undesireable
That comes with the pangs of growing beneath the skin covered earth
That comes with the pangs of growing limbs
Lifeless yet optimistic
I am not a hyphenate