Forsaken Christ swallows wholly his pride,
Or sour wine less pure than water or pain-
Presently pierced, and now to poke again
To drain the fountain living through his side.
And women weeping hymns to him abide
In agonizing ghosts that sound the strain-
“Never ever after our Lord is slain
Shall blood from water nourish ****** bride”.
Full dead they take to tomb the suffered gent
And women weeping there reflect how sweet
The water went when he heard mother’s cries.
And women weeping left the brood to treat
The body, decked with spices and ointment
To prepare rot- and say to him “arise”.

Disturbing love, leave my pain alone
To suffer itself without further sting
From impossible whispers urges bring
Promising penetrating, careful bone.
Let me not think, together we’ll moan
In a comfortless acquaintance fling
Though I still to desperate poses cling
To make my bottom inclination known.
When near again, allow out my heart
Hungry expressions suggesting ease
To beg exchange of soul and stranger skin.
Assist securing word for his part
His readiness to physically please:
Embrace me in the agony of sin.

Of woman born none greater than me here:
Riverside ******* honey, eating bugs,
And dunking saps impenitent for hugs
That join to love less love than holy fear.
I verse the one to come walks gently near
To grace the flesh in stride past jealous shrugs
Of public bands with sullen, crouching mugs
Adoring sin to mark the dog less dear.
I dip the son beloved God to merge
A rested lamb and spirit mouth to sing
Release to captives of a two-tongued trade.
I make the way to wood his darkest urge
And pray his self reflection now can bring
Redemption to the waters where I wade.

Face to face beloved her I saw straight-
And kidding it- airily edged twice
With flaming sword to slash my gut to price
This sin my taste for fleshless comfort mate;
As I past cattle taxed on belly wait
The wage of food and dust known to entice
Beloved her to death, with rib for vice
Ruling over that sin her taste for hate.
And I tempt down my mouth and fall the same
For furrowed brow as her for bearing pain
In birthing souls that voice caught naked out.
Now beloved her has everlasting fame
As seeded bride to be a spirit lain
In white to clothe our sin this taste of doubt.

Serpent inverting sense invoking smiles
Flash bone to the fruit of the knowing good
Taste of the sickening or urgent food
Swagging God to appetize necrophiles.
Serpent whispers war swallowing souls for miles
Each way as a starved out heavenly feud
Flames to ruin the body by bodies imbued
With gut lust the conflicted tongue riles.
A worm burrowing through to eat the turn
Will savor seed at core of maggot site,
Settled omnivorous as freshly found.
Selving **** to cocoon the worm it churn,
A hungry untasted hermaphrodite
Devouring dainty dead meat now renowned.

Your gaze you fixed upon the stainless blade,
Unsheathed and raised, reflecting back the eye
Which locks itself in this impassive buy
With whispers telling how the ransom’s paid.
Confusing how the bloodshot in the glade
Mock offerings with flame but coldly lie
On altar acceptably bound to die
Like the frigid pure the Egyptians slayed
To bless the flood when cows and crops went dry,
And feed the god the gore to satisfy
The starving sense it lived to bring this aid.
You discern the image the gleam has made
As a sphere flushed in vein of rushed reply
That sleepless eye will sacrifice for trade.

By my black soul, I swear the hurt to you
My defiant flaunt inflicted boasts no
Honored place in my conceit. It is low
In stature set as every nail knew
To be driven by my self-****** heart through
Submissive feet. Inverted was the bow
When the God in place put goat, who with blow
Of devised pipes prevailed the motley crew
To keep the seat. Apollo being true
To God challenged on the odd, even so
Proposed to sing and backwardly to flow
The music sweet. Marsyas from the view
Bowed his head in dread of pain to ensue
From the God exacting torture dropped slow
On a tree of no retreat. Out to mete
Nails in feet to cause a stream that I know
Reminds you how this flask I am serves two-
And one the God I beat- from skins of Pete.