the vaporised flesh of an urban shaman, the lizard queens feast upon the remains, take my heartless beating pulse and rip it open with some orange light, sucking down globules of plasma burn, they intoxicate themselves with what was once me. i find myself inhabiting 12 women. 
there is a story about dali, he loved his wife dali so much, he ate her body after she died because he wanted her to always be part of her.
thus my heart was eaten, sliced in 12, and my body torn apart, under blue moon in pisces, the witches cast their strange spell, the smell of sex and death, the odour of immortality, what is these skins i am imprisoned within.
the women come into power, its the way of the world, it is how things should be they have many enemies, mostly men. some of these women have red hair, some have fire in their veins, some are quietly still, others sing with powerful voices, some take chaos and tame it, others are older and know better, but gradually through some alchemical sublimation i find a way, chanting the mantra, focus on the white light of love, liberation, surrender.
thus my dissipation, transcendence through suffering, bliss will come, bliss will arrive, on a witches broomstick, a wand, a cat, a big boiling pot. the enchantment breaks open and reveals everything, feminine masculine, how quaint these arbitrary designations, we gave ourselves sex and divided it as if we figured it would make a difference, we gave ourselves 24 hours of rotation but split it, reduction, leaves essence, leaves what it not transformed. 
in the spirit of 12 i cast my work, strange incantation of love, strange surrender, ethereal blossoming of divinity, in each corpuscle that travels its journey is something of the whole, how does homeopathy work, by sympathy, like cures like but opposites attract, it's the algebra of paradox, a place i inhabit, a shape i know, a law i can crack. 
what's the answer the 12 ask me through thought, they are attuned, the answer is time, i whisper.
it's just time.