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