I've always itched
For perfect mahogany
Chimera doubles.

Cavorting into her,
Psychologies
Fullest emptiness.

Drastic is the
...Vow...

One which
Most perceive.

I let it
Palpate
My sheathing...

And my entrails
Lay open...
As she played cello.

With intestines of mine,
Her smile planted
In mist.

Painted on sawmill
Hinges...
It began.

To sieve serrating
..Arms...
Back to my tissues
Within.

My bones; refused
Seeping aqueducts.

Only to quail from sin.

We wetted; our contour
Tongues on....
O-negative streams.

So animalistic,
I dwindled upon
Her lancet...

And we let our
Collage begin.