Did your ships sail to these shores
To keep me as your own?
Suck the marrow from my bones
Raise your sword towards the depths of night
Or did you arrive
To fill your mouth with fireflies
Breathe through the tangled roots
Sink into the chaos of the Earth
But I am not a faerie to be caught
I'm not a patron of your charms
My skin is soft but do you know?
The grass may be warm and green
But will turn brown beneath
A weight unforgiving
I rose from the soft Earth
Draped in loam and wrapped in vine
Constellations lined my spine
As they fell
As florid as the hollow expanse
Will you follow my trails
Rising through the dark's deepest gloom?
As though I am the moon
Never will my longing quell
To know your harvest and tide
To cast shadows on your tired eyes
My skin may be soft but do you know
The boldness of my touch?
Such an antiquated articulation
Of artificial ego
Is nothing more than a knife
Against your throat
With anchors in arrogance
All of your swiftly sailing ships
Will never reach the shores of Prospect.