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Esben And The Witch
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When That Head Splits
Poured away into a shallow
Pool of oils, spilling colours
Mesmerised by her visage
Appearances emulsified
Stationed at the basin's edge
A fisherman waiting to catch
The prize that lies beneath the screen
Of gold and blues and tangerines
When she grows numb
Set by the sun
She will become
Part of the kingdom
Alone she sits, a silent voyeur
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Kneeling naked at the altar
While ants clamber over the
Petrified hand of her neighbour
There is a bulb inside her head
Where once there was a brain in place
A clod with roots, a ball of string
That's full of love and lycorine
When she grows numb
Set by the sun
She will become
Part of the kingdom
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