My Killer

My killer has tomatoes in her pocket
She's gliding with the jelly in her shoe
And when she gets to market she'll unlock it
And the odor will imbibe a bit of you

Come tell me there's a hole without your face skin
Plastering itself upon the view
Or portals both unbound and unforgiven
From which kettle's black and boundless waters spew

My killer has a cold and heaving blanket
She rescued it from sometime broad and blue
And when she gets to bed she's gonna yank it
And the corner with the stain will come untrue