Across rivers,
mountains.
After days
in love;
lost.

Overhaul.

Absorbing root matter,
assenting dementia,
inspiring luckless lives
onward.

molotov kids riding riots turned victims turned villainous by act of magic so much like pulling a rabbit out of a megaphone in order to show possibilities there is no such thing as impossible

Be my spider, baby.
Let me eat you up.

Roll your legs in refined sugar,
and your pigment-cup ocelli in love.

These words seems to travel at a constant.
Through neural space & time..
A loosely held dimension,
composed of thought and electric impulse.
Energy is continuity,
expedited through the nooks
triggering neural activity.
Pulsating particles travel swiftly
as supple skin meets lips.

Chemicals release and I am lost.

Roughly warping time and space,
ignoring tears in cosmic fabric.

Cohesive thought is vanished.

When alone think of thrashing blues.
Let the ink seep through your veins.
Taste the flesh, praise the fragile meat.

Wait, as the shadows creep up to bed.
Treat them to blood curling screams.
Rewarding echoes will be carried off.

Trust in me, trust in me.
Pry around rusty edges, to find.
O please, find the word to set you ablaze.

They took out your insides
replaced them with cotton
sewed you up &
pinched your cheeks.

They sent out for wine
“spread honey on butter”;
now watch the ants
prance on the subjects.