i cant rock for you.
pelvis teeter totter, a-boned and skinned silkcresently.
and over slipped fingers that weren't his
To hold onto/possess and move me down into submission
spilling over backwards an army of ants
long spinal tap adorn me, cresent moon about my shape.
All i could think of was drownding,
thats where i start to climb the well bucket rope up and down your throat.