Deimos and Phobos I can barely breathe Suffocating in Quicksand Underneath my skin Sundered secrets caught in throats Fires burning under tongues Faces blushing, light this up Up and atom, meet these suns Purging, belching out black smoke Prodigal, still doing splits Bending over backward To become the destroyer of worlds A far cry from throwing stones Ripples of the underworld Lunar movers centrifugal Moon-set against the glassy sea Growing cold but still ticking Lips still