That’s When the Ceremony Starts

The spark in his eye was sign he was alive

I cleaned his feet to be complete

I drank from the wine that came from inside
The heart of his meat and the splurge of his sweet

That's when the ceremony starts

I hold the cup to my breast as he wets my neck

There's a book and a blade then to alternate

Think of the wind in his eyes and of suicide
With poppers blind, it's wedged inside

I beg and plead to be underneath
The man with bread who wakens me
He curls his breath and turns the dead
It winds inside to fertilize

That's when the ceremony starts

With a wreath and a sigh and a veil and a thigh

The comfort brief, impure, and sweet

To burn incense and break the bread
With honey spread, his warmth, his chest

He blushes and bleeds, he breathes then feeds
It was the spark in his eye that was sign he'd survived

That's when the ceremony starts

It was the spark in his eye that was sign he'd survived