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The Family And The Fishing Net (Gabriel Peter)

Suffocated by mirrors, stained by dreams Her honey belly pulls the seams Curves are still upon the hinge Pale zeros tinge the tiger skin Moist as grass, ripe and heavy as the night The sponge is full, well out of sight All around the conversations Icing on the warm flesh cake Light creeps through her secret tunnels Sucked into the open spaces Burning out in sudden flashes Draining blood from well-fed faces Desires form in subtle whispers Flex the muscles in denial Up and down its pristine cage So the music, so the trial Vows of sacrifice, headless chickens Dance in circles, they the blessed Man and wife, undressed by all Their grafted trunks in heat possessed Even as the soft skins tingle They mingle with the homeless mother Who loves the day but lives another That once was hers The worried father, long lost lover Brushes ashes with his broom Rehearses jokes to fly and hover Bursting over the bride and groom And the talk goes on Memories crash on tireless waves The lifeguards whom the winter saves Silence falls the guillotine All the doors are shut Nervous hands grip tight the knife In the darkness, till the cake is cut Passed around, in little pieces The body and the flesh The family and the fishing-net And another in the mesh The body and the flesh