in my eyes, stop a bad spaceship pornographically

cruel beyond roughly melodramatic, the endless spine

you’d think of angelic resistance, and being like bats

assaulted, twisted ghosts doing a man’s delusional thinking

taken friendly, the rapped flour would be this hot aspect of

his fungal brownie, stumbling across Lazarus disgustingly

slamming the CGI of fire, the contrasts trace aneurysms as

one big ol’ wizard’s material world of depressive quantum mechanics

retro- switching meaningless humanoids and grave

characterized as extant penis vibe, as well as tears like feces

in my eyes, which grab the universe’s alien junk, vagina Faust

indulges in wonderful networks of anti- girl hell, well, yes

and no, non-arterial, afraid of identical bruises, symmetrical

vivisection cranking the goblin arteries of goat antlers noodling