Den

I tripped into a foxhole down down down shiny black button eyes beamed a dime a dozen for your doe-eyed sins can you call your mother’s name? Sleek and shining you see me bleed matchstick machete prick my fragile fingertips I see you’ve laid out traps for me can you call your mother’s name? Ember red and raging you push me up up up through the blinding lightning sky smolder there while I get colder I’ll tell mother that you called.