With Flowers In The Garden Of Fires - Current 93

You look beautiful still in the cloths

You wear in the photograph

If you could see the missiles that count time

As I have seen them and ride them

The Hunter lounges beside her studded with petals

Magnifies the Valley

In the Garden of Fires

The head of the face

Of the grave of heaven

The fear on the tiny smile of

SilverFlashState

The agnoised pain of collisions of Crescents

The apocalypse girl—Chiara in her hat—

Sits and talks to atoms and planets

That descend from the trees

Bending their knees

She calls my name knowing

She is famed for the flowers

That pour from her teeth

Sometimes before Aquarius

Gave birth to murders in armour

Oh yeah!

camoflage!

Before the Stars of the Seas contacted me

When we were still

Long, long times ago

Haunted I wound string

Haunting them

Pulled umbilical cords from lovers' dream

Made savage thread

Worshipped pricks or frocks or creatures

Called

Or or

Look!

The walker is on the grass

Ebony or words for forms

Let’s piss peace on the shadows

The chorus

Rolls like sores over the wreckage

Of minor moons and white electrics

Lectures on despair

Points to the Queer Queen’s toes

In silk or shit or space