Tip:
Highlight text to annotate it
X
I tasted the fever of Your existence
seems like cold grain to my mouth
I stand aside, I stay away
transmuting my quicksilver blood
KIA - that I may see
ZOS - that I may touch
insipid are the describing words
the self needs no vulgar praise
This worship has no supplications
my rite is to live and do
things naked, pure, of honest ***
the throbbing vortex feeds on it all
Sleep is the best of possible prayers
the winged eyes are blessed to see
downtrodden deception of every torment
transpierced hymens my *** adores
Many images yet one raw flesh
animal steps I love to tread
an ideal point where Time is Space
memory giant sores this journey must heal
Lady of Mourning and her monsters
lay down the scythes for here I come
joyful and priapic my baby soul
a new-born one, ten million years old