As if our hips were sensitive mirrors.
And our two voices, soprano and tenor.
They found each other's precision,
gathered in our skin, as if through fission.
And what I did you did, and vice versa.
Multiplied with each thrust, uttered curses.
Until all that was inside was out.
Like kisses, we slumped into a pile of shouts.
My hand is a starfish between your legs.
A bird's nest made of rain.
In the far off trees the tiniest egg falls.
When you come, I hear it cracking. (Repeat all)
All lyrics from two poems found in _Nightshift Belonging to Lorca_ by Sean Thomas Dougherty. http://books.google.com/books/about/Nightshift_Belonging_to_Lorca.html?id=KPywAAAAIAAJ
from Communist Bedroom,
released September 1, 2014
arrangement - ...in another castle
words - Sean Thomas Dougherty
mixmaster - Sean Hansen