A piece to profit/porcupine

 A piece to profit from.
I took a piece of you to go.
 The skin absorbed it.
What a rush.
 And how I went about it is like voodoo.
And how I went about it is forbidden even to
blasphemous script.
And where I went in dreams to gather my discovery,
Will surprise the most the most mundane con of the
lot.

Porcupine of poetry.
 The pricks have spoken
and they´re all on my back.
I roll into a ball and take out the tomcats
trying to paw at these lil spiky souls
I picked up on the way.
You´ll never get me into the well,
into the hole.
I´ll be here sincere and sinister
as cut moons often bleed.