Grey sunlight in the stars
inflict bees inside
tonight's care

like sliding on an itchy paper

cheer clips of sensuality

Morning like a pot of milk
drained
in fingertips
and
paws
and
claws

slide through plastic toys of
car mechanics

When Simpson's trumple

Science called the tune

when neighbours echo
into caves
with bees

And that is the home
of a Witch faith

of uncommon trance

Morning like beer bottle lid
brings claws
of oak trees

into Walls
into Paws

Grey sunlight in the stars
inflict bees inside
tonight's care.