Mira Mos Crime
Lovesong for Ereba
To go as the varren goes on Tuchanka,
To drift as the white sand blows on Tuchanka--
Alone, exhausted, lost in the horizon:
Nothing left clean where Aralakh glows on Tuchanka.
I crumbled for years, I hunched in the darkness,
And then when I saw you, my orange blood froze on Tuchanka.
Vaul watches above me, the Void lies below;
I’ll drift through my life as the thresher maws doze on Tuchanka.
The blue of her skin perturbs me; arrests me--
Disturbs me: gives silence that no Krogan knows on Tuchanka.
Mother of maws, beauty in the desert,
How lovely your mandibles close on Tuchanka.
Collapsing and weary, under your spell,
The Urdnot sows his last rows on Tuchanka.
To go as the varren goes on Tuchanka,
To drift as the white sand blows on Tuchanka--
Alone, exhausted, lost in the horizon:
Nothing left clean where Aralakh glows on Tuchanka.
I crumbled for years, I hunched in the darkness,
And then when I saw you, my orange blood froze on Tuchanka.
Vaul watches above me, the Void lies below;
I’ll drift through my life as the thresher maws doze on Tuchanka.
The blue of her skin perturbs me; arrests me--
Disturbs me: gives silence that no Krogan knows on Tuchanka.
Mother of maws, beauty in the desert,
How lovely your mandibles close on Tuchanka.
Collapsing and weary, under your spell,
The Urdnot sows his last rows on Tuchanka.
mira mos crime makes things and will die one day and not make things. they have published at fruita pulp, the torist (forthcoming), reality beach (forthcoming) and voicemail poems (forthcoming). you can find their regular garbage
at http://metonymicallyme.tumblr.com/
at http://metonymicallyme.tumblr.com/