If I see you again
I swear it’s just a reflex
when my second phalanx
goes crashing through your orbital ridge;
the third, the fourth, the fifth,
succession is meant to be swift
‘til there’s nothing left
of the eyes you saw me with.

It was never revenge
for a glacial silence:
you are emptiness, you are emptiness.
It was never revenge,
it was self-defence:
you are emptiness, you are emptiness.

If I see you again
I swear it’s just a reflex
leaving bones in splinters all over your face.
It’s no mistake
when the zygomatic arch breaks.
Cracks in the sagittal suture;
my love, it’s your future,
my love, it’s your future…

It was never revenge
for a glacial silence:
you are emptiness, you are emptiness.
It was never revenge,
it was self-defence, it was self-defence:
you are emptiness, you are emptiness.

(It was self-defence, it was self-defence)
(It’s your future, it’s your future)

(It was self-defence, it was self-defence)
(It was self-defence, it was self-defence)

(It’s your future, it’s your future)
(It was self-defence, it was self-defence)

(It was self-defence, it was self-defence)
(It was self-defence, it was self-defence)