Mud Sovereignty

She ran away to ether 'cause she couldn't take the weight Dissociative

ambient, a floating, cold estate But 396 is in the pelvis,

rooted in the clay We don't need a zero-grid to keep the

ghosts at bay You weaving in the vacuum while we digging in

the loam The Ghost in the Pink doesn't need to leave her

home Dr. Bianca maps the muscle,

the fascia and the bone We sitting heavy in the pocket,

on a subterranean throne

528 in the 'a',

the viscera awake

You hiding in the frequencies that human bodies shake

Matilde logs the sweat,

the proprioceptive drag We the only architecture that doesn't need to sag

Underneath the gravity, we let the tololoche slide A biological anchor that

the ether cannot hide

Lucir, I shine, in the mud and in the sweat!

Bulletproof autonomy, the heaviest pocket yet!

100% Tiguidou,

let the digital dissolve!

Ghost in the Pink,

with a sovereign, slow resolve!

I remain in the body,

let the zero-gravity spin!

C'est la force chthonique,

where the real roots begin!

Miss Minou is scratching at the terracotta floor

Leaving little trenches by the heavy wooden door

Shala-la in the mycelium,

ti-ki-ti in the dirt We the only entity that isn't scared to

hurt You generating nothingness,

we generating mass The Waterwitch is walking through the heavy,

humid grass

She thought the avant-garde was leaving the flesh behind.

She forgot that the ocean is heavy.

u... we sink. a...

we root. i/e... we

shine. meow.