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.