The Commercial Nude

My body constitutes my mother’s body
Our flesh on a screen
Decorated in the robes of a commercial mythology
Our postures are a monument realized in marble
I'm the object of interest and I can’t speak
Cause my lips are sewn shut
Reject the sensation
There’s no longer a point in it
Spread my legs wide
Ash will seek ash
My holy host to yours
Stand between the Sun and me
All else is peripheral
Upon my knees, your hands across my face
I am where I need to be
In the air, an ambassador of hyperbole
Somehow bends us both into a functional display of love
Now, now
The idiots lay naked
Embracing the commercial nude

All too casual a gesture
Time held stiff within each moment
No matter which direction I walk
I will hit ocean and find an end
That’s my only contribution
To surrender any implication that I have any understanding
All too casual a gesture
And the Sun explodes anonymously
And when it does, what would have changed?
All too casual a gesture
All too casually the whole world bends
At a geometry of homage for you
Make horses see scorpions
Make horses see scorpions
Tear all these walls down
What am I now if not my failures?
Press them onto wax
They are yours now
They are yours

In an act of courtesy on your behalf
You place a hand upon me
You place your hand over my eyes
And read the braille of my quivers
And now you have rearranged me as you please
In a bronze posture of confession
And you’ve hung a bruise on the ray of sunshine
That shakes us both awake in the morning
How good it must feel to sit upon that throne
As the rest of us dream of washing your flesh
Somewhere, I know, you are carving my name into a stone
A recording, a ticking time bomb
As I try
I will try
I will try
I will try to forget this
I will try
I am nothing if I am not on my knees
I am nothing if I am not on my knees