Beauty arrest me.
Seep me through thy thorny sand,
engorge me in thy bitter-sweet poison,
consume me in thy blue light...
For you see -- you are my mansion --
invisible, unwritten of, unsearched for.
You are the gemstone of my navel...
For where I bid life good morrow is where you raise my maple.
And when I bid life good sorrow, you run the blood down to rest at the perch of my veins...
You are my gluttony, my yellow-orange pink sweet sun,
and my enveloping gush of irate fire.
You are my consensual plug of ire.