Can no one fall from the frown of the circle

tree trunk heavy from past trust tithes

Deep blue eels that run under the skin

ready to cut, taking fronds of blood

Chant for triggers, for lapses, for minds

finish my turn when he's had enough.

Clothed fringed with moments of madness,

as we claw at their pig skin seams

Tear the etiquette away as we fall.

The beast corners tired synapses of the mind

Treading trenches in pathways he can find.

Devil licks my memories as I leave myself behind.