When That Head Splits - Esben and the Witch, Maps

Poured away into a shallow

Pool of oils, spilling colours

Mesmerised by her visage

Appearances emulsified

Stationed at the basin’s edge

A fisherman waiting to catch

The prize that lies beneath the screen

Of gold and blues and tangerines

When she grows numb

Set by the sun

She will become

Part of the kingdom

Alone she sits, a silent voyeur

Kneeling naked at the altar

While ants clamber over the

Petrified hand of her neighbour

There is a bulb inside her head

Where once there was a brain in place

A clod with roots, a ball of string

That’s full of love and lycorine

When she grows numb

Set by the sun

She will become

Part of the kingdom