Fuzzy bug and humble,
You'll fall into place,
Cheek bone
Against shoulder blade
I am the elephant yam
Flower tossing
The stench
Of rotting flesh,
My aura, my perfume
Crawl inside the witch of the forest
And climb,
Futile,
Her waxy walls.
You'll emerge the very next night
Covered in pollen
Then seek
The sweet
Scent of her dead skin.
Crawl inside the yam.
