Your Pussy is Black Magic Woman and I Got a Black Cat Bone

by wechslerh66

we moved to the old country
an outlaw phenomenology
a darker torch singer
the markers of course
when my prayer is to linger with you
in the old world mythology

we move under covers
embracing asylum
like sirens of sunset
the martyrs of force move
between dream and distance
ten thousand miles to the shrouded city

we move under moonlight
damp tongue and dark hollow
toward malevolent embers
your trembling membrane
a torn rune of music
we move to the music
we move in rhythm

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