Inner Statues Dust

This cosmonaut 5am in treacherous orbit decaying
Coming round the near side thoughts in black gestation
The goddess' gravitational skin for the green flaying
Tidal pools gleam in the mercury blue imagination

Fuck Pythagoras; the angles right align
Burning my ass on atmosphere serrated rim
thumb checking pulse for danger signs
and swimming in geometric illuminated sin

Right-angled left leaning hypotenuse core
Feeding from the bottom of the chlorophyll tank
Haven’t a clue what the struggle is for
The notes have been burned in Babylon bank

And through all the nights sleeping oblivious
feral footprints wet on cold cobbled bone
slap the prowling wind rictus delirious
writ a million years in darkness to atone



The title of this was born from a lyric on The Mars Volta's Cicatriz ESP.
What I (mis)heard as Erotic inner statues dust is actually Erupting in a statues dust
Fuck it - the former makes more sense to me...

...hello Mr Freud!