Lleùs matricis

Lleùs matricis
My internal flesh digests these ichtyophagist tribes
My torn off skin, my sharpened bones, my tapering head
Reduced of bones, perfect
I hate these fish which carry me out towards the bottom

From bile to phlegm I hold my madness muzzled under my life
Under my bed trail furies I know that I worsen I know who I am.
Fuc*** bitch, pregnant of hatred
Sniff this repugnant trailing taste, organic honey
Sweetened rot nourished, blocked of a psychiatric cream
Strip the inaudible chaos of my reversible skin
My excessive hunger,
This venom flees in my greasy pipes, which cough
Look at me bitch, vomiting, bitch, appease me, bitch
Look at me bitch
These half lions bark their fat
Throw up their vacuum, their suicide extract
Perfect rise of a fascination
My body sleeps.