Every step the bones spoke clean

A woman and her child, a skull open

Everywhere they wore flesh of illusion and could not hide the joints of dusted

confusion…

Today, the minds were hostile as they embraced the pleasure

Grouped with one and one and one with more added in speak

Glares and the middle finger, righteous of self

even mock tears of anger

Moments where the skeletons actually think they matter

and yes

for in grinding their bones to make my bread

gives the giant

pleasure.