bud

The city divides itself when this time comes
When the orange hides behind blue velvet
And an ocean crawls back to it
Over and over again

It becomes two parts, one
A meritorious swarm,
An army of glamazon henchman
Faultlessly polished gold,
Hands folded, little dips for the eyes,
Hands folded,

Two, platformed with legs spread
A desert where a pack of wolves presents a prince
And he bows his snout to sniff, to test a single taste
I guess I'm good to go
Not a virgin, not a house-wife

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