What is This? testo

There is a star in my throat

Yeah, a voice, there is hope

In a space inbetween

Runs the milk of relief

If motion is time

I am water, I will rise

To your bed on a cloud

Where you stand

Where you writhe

Painted red, bleeding gold

Your sword

Guts the sun

Flesh is torn

Oceans disgorge your love

We are swimming through

Your moonlight pools

The phosphene tides

The writing on your eyes

We drift through stone

We sift our own powdered bones

We wash, we are clean

What is it now that is thinking this thing?

Where

Are you?

What can you do

To prove you exist?

What

Is this?

Who is this singing

That which no longer exists?