Inheritance from Inheritance by Deathless Gods with Human Bods

To dig the box from buried earth:
The attic as a metaphor
For hyperlinks, for hyperplasts,
For grift of silt that blocks the pass
To click, to think, to know, to love
To link the soul to frozen roots
To lick the finger to unfold
Honey and milk and wine and gold

Eight splayed hands, brittle map
Mom and son, twin and aunt
You, your face, your output
We, our songs, our selfhood

We're organic abstracts
Shapelessly designed
Vast neural networks
Don't have me in mind

What is it? To inherit? To bear it gently
Down the attic stairs? To get it? To merit?
To share a secret tree with you? To bind the bough?
Can I really know you now?

• Alternative
• electronic
• folk
• indie
• pop
• singer-songwriter
• Los Angeles