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Loehly
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"What are you doing, you don't belong here, this here is my corner" a wrinkled vulture of a woman snapped at me. As the crowd passed by us in the street they paid no mind- we were nothing but piles of empty bags and sagging skin.
(more)
We are divine.
Absolutely exquisite.
Our lives the envy of the common parasite.

We know what is best,
From the sweat of the rest, (more)
The priests tell me praise shouldn't land on the wicked,
But their hands and their deeds don't lead through the thicket.

You hold me together. (more)