my poor cones and rods are victims of a sensual seclusion when every hue begs to be seen with cookie-cutter eyes vacant as atheist heaven
mindless obedience and the train’s track figure eight with fingers crossed— we are putting the plea in “please” tied crudely to the rails as the engines swift as rabbits in heat decapitate us
and how long our last night lasted i couldn’t say before your teeth drew iron blood a vibrant tongue crippled crimson