Biome

Biome, can we protect ourselves from being smothered?
How is it still so reassuring to the organ wasting away?
In a box of rolled cigarettes
My majesty is rotten
And the skin is morphing
To the fears of individualism
Seeking and counting
Hatred is a long fuse
Dusk descends, latex hands
Identity screenshot memoir
My body is porous and filled with seeds
God's miscarriage