Underworld

is that you?
is that
is that really you?
to call between my lips
two kangaroo fingers push
through and scratch my back in rhythm
slow foot
slow fast
waiting for a night to wrap around us
i could go in there
get some sweet stuff
all these things
in me (in me)
all these things
in me (in me)
is that you?
is that
is that really you?
to hold beneath my skin
two numbers click between her touch
when you pull me down into them
rising and rising
[through the inside of a glass eye painting]
calling me in there