Village boys drive the harvest
princesses through Main Street

the eels in the source swim
answers for the lovers

who seek assurances, but we
lie on the attic mattress

and repeat what should never
end, we know it for sure

in every cell of our body
More real we cannot feel

like no one can reason away
diseases or torture, so

let us, weightlessly heavy, sink away
together in the smell of angelica