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A C Leuavacant Jun 2016
My body,
host of the latter beast of being  
Has infected me
abhorrence flowing through the veins as if a sweet ****** remedy
What earthly holds it has on the simple minded
What policies it makes of the limited.

Jesus,
Would you kindly redeem me?
And take the aching bones and implications from underneath me
Lord take my flesh.
Have it for your own.
And as for my brothers and my sisters
remove the cursed metaphors and fixations that contain their inept perceptions of identity

Allow the spirits to Dance,
On their infinite spectrums
O We'll make a routine of it.
Dear reader, you know that we’re cursed
By our nature’s decadent thirst
At the hand of the devil
We’re drawn unto evil
But it’s boredom that’s really the worst!
A literary limerick reduction of Baudelaire's Au Lecteur.

— The End —