Pulsate your peevish pain
through every inch of me,
call it love,
your preposterous purity
pumps in my veins now,
I cannot escape your
Vice, I laugh that I once
Tried.

That is a part of me now.
That same sickness satiates
Each nerve of mine.
That same slaughterous sin
sounds like the echo of
My bare bones.
That slimy sidekick that
You call sanctimonious
Writhes, sorry in my skin.

Pre-existent Angelface is nothing
But a wistful, naïve miracle!
She is chained with heavy wire,
Remains in my grains.
I believe she weeps, out of sheer
Celebration, for she is a
ferociously forgiving creature
Blind to her nature.