I view you like marbled shine of fat on a chuck eye cut.
No, I don’t have a fetish for 17th century authors. I want to fuck what was hidden for me to find.
The idea of time kills your erection? Wisdom (Chokmah) feels the same.
A cryptic text written by a soft hand wrapped in tender flesh makes me cum more than you can.
Sometimes it doesn’t, it depends on how long you can fuck the past.
Sometimes they can only fuck the future, eager moans turn into echoes.
They jump into the mouth of whos tongue only cries and consumes.
The tongue helps them die as a Christian martyr, on the precipice between children’s thighs.
To reach wisdom and the meat it contains in butchery, learn how you could fuck a woman or man in shy reach of your century.
A simple practice, what harm could be done?
To self create a sensitive memory, to induce.
To self create a memory without it being inflicted.
To create a fetish thats deeper.
To be one not just with the present.
To be one not with the community.
To be One with the Noone.
To drop eggs not only in the same bed.
But throughout time.
Just like Einstein intended.
This letter is my horse I ride, looking up at the ceilings ludibrium, holding the reins that swim like wire from behind a mirror. I’m so dizzy in a dream kingdom I made my home.
The return of the repressed, His name is the furrows! And his furrows suggest, whatever is coming is coming from below my dreaming nest!
I have no loved ones, I am perfect for you. Belonging, I can step in the fire. I won’t rip out my teeth or break the mirror, I’ll suck the sap from the barking wolves. For whom my rock shines, my blood runs silent and I let you take me to divine!
I was so lonely when he died, emptiness drinking of my mind and all of the green ended in an accidental, clumsy fall. It was then when I first shook hands with a King named extension. My initiation plays and rolls me on my back, the first thing I remember are my eyes watering over, I was only able to see black bodies and a bright blue orb that turned out to be a blue stone blurred in my sight.
Blue hemimorphite is exchanged back between black, mechanical arms. They assemble paganly into two lines facing another with a furrow separating them. Pelvis’ straddling a limpid substance in the air. Their feet spin dancing on soil, talons tease to rip my flesh, use my ribs as piano keys! And I fall in the cunt ditch, under their exchanging arms, between two lines of ash-men. Falling in my cotton sheet, the black limbs above me are my muzzle and my hands try to escape the white womb in the furrow.
The prologue whose cheeks are painted of a girl clown laugh at my awakening! I reddened the womb so I could lift the sheet from my eyes, and I see there is no one left here around me. Black jolting elbows escape my peripherals like traces of ink running away, the prints of their once electric feet mock and mark its residue in a still air.
Slender warm come here, mmm a blue rock was left in the divet! I bend down to palm the stone of Imagination. Bent over, my hands to the ground then began my legs to lift themselves silly and clap together. My hands clenched the rock to keep the air from raping me up into the wind. That invisible girl clown, laughing and fading. My hands fastened to the ground as my legs flagged the green storm sky but because my blood runs silent I am not gone with the wind yet.
An overhead shot of that fast white thing fled from a storm’s vein, shooting an arrow of smoke, it sees my palmed hands like a seed, my feet sprouting toward it, my body is its turbulent handstand. Mount me as a long pewter sythe does to the land.
The sky stretched my legs and turned me beastly. It released me and my arms and legs snapped back to the ground and cursed me with quadrupedalism. Four limbed naked woman runs now, the gods tail inverted inside her back cunt, spliced and erect her spine knuckles out of her pale lunar flesh. Riding over the trammels of fire and coal whatever’s left of the land, it’s now apparent something unseen is seated on top of her.
Spinning and dancing I become one with the ash-men, kicking the rock in the fire burning blue and red. Spattering black saliva my moon breasts collect the dark specks, I shove my head in the flaming pit rabid.
A nameless phoenix, my neck jolts back into the mingled air, I shake my head like a dog with the hot rock between my lips.
My melting tears scream ‘here is Imagination! I give it to you god!’
The spirit takes my reign and it does not let it touch the ground, takes it from my lips and ascends fourth with the earth’s drumming sounds.
There is a knocking but it isn’t coming from my skull but at my door.
I almost fell on my face as I bowed to a golden knob, but instead it fit as a perfect pearl in my palm. Cold air knocked a different reality into me and brought me my sister who’s now standing in front of me. I stared blankly out of the blinding pale doorframe, I forgot it was my day to babysit my baby niece.
“Mag you look freezing! Did your heat go out?” My sister said.
“No it didn’t.” I locked the door after she barged passed me dragging the kid behind her. I couldn’t hear anything she was saying but she looked frazzled, kept staring at her orangish blonde split ends that were sticking up. She pulled off the scarf that was wrapped around my head, I didn’t even know I was wearing it.
“Seriously, why are you dressed like that? It’s like a hundred degrees in here!” She staggered to the thermostat and then started arguing with herself that it was broken and then turned back to me seemingly yelling at me for something. Quickly rubbing the ash off my face I started to stare at my legs standing, confused.
She was waiting for me to say something so I told her that I wanted her to have a good time, with whatever she was planning to do and that I would take good care of Sadie while she was gone.
“I will see you in two weeks so be good for mommy and aunt Mag.” She turned to me then and chimed, “Three year old appropriate movies only!”