A body of clay covered with mouths
The mouth over my heart is small and wounded
The mouth over my stomach is dry and hollow
The mouth over my liver has rotted teeth
Piss leaks out and poisons my skin
The mouth in my back, over my spine,
Is soft and wet - it cries and cries
The mouth in my head never opens
In all this time, it's never spoken
The palms of these hands, these hands of clay,
Have mouths of steel with grinning, sharp, razor tongues
Kiss the mouths in my hands
Let me run them over your body
I promise you they won't bite
There's nothing to fear, nothing to hide - they just want to taste you
I am only made of clay, but these metal mouths in my hands are always, always, always hungry...
There's nothing
Nothing left