anarchy long form

you believe that private property is theft
and you believe that your body is only yours
so perhaps it fits
that i can only have you
in a dark cave
and i can only have you
when i steal you from yourself
and in the dark carve
into your flesh
on the hunt for bones and your skin
totemizing you when you're gone
stringing your ivory on sinew
memorializing you in song
and hoping that my misdemeanors
will call you home
that my imitative witchcraft
will call you home
that my petty magic
will call you home
that my song of your stolen body
will do what I cannot
that my defilement of you
will do what i cannot
will call you home
will tug at your heart
strings til they blossom with longing
for my mystery
and full-throated themselves
respond
in song
in a love song
til they respond
in a longing of their own
to that which has gone
until in a longing of their own
for that which is gone
they respond.

I hope you know that because
i've done these things
because i have carved you into song
because your long bones are holed
under the lost island of my bed, in my home
your body is no longer only yours
and I have committed a most natural act in theft.

for in loving you
i steal from coveters
and redeem the poor

for in loving you
i liberate the property
of your form.