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Fuck it;)

Word smith an unintelligent gun smith power lives, in the sound between your lips so girls bend your hips just jokes so, Netflix and chill, ...

Friday, 12 June 2020

Before, we had already been.


Teach these pupils a wonder verse
an imaginational trigger, of beauty naked in its perfection
a lyrical picture that sets the pinnacle of a mortals search
an autoptical sight that'll take an autopsy to gain it's description.

A soul seeking find of a wall-less, open planned church
a vision to engorge, explore, gain its appreciation to earn all directions
a pleasurable pressure, pressing on the optical nerve.

In other words, I'm looking for the poetical inspection
of our own resuscitating resurrection
something to invoke the spirit's recollection
of an anatomical dissection that gave the gift of the eternal connection
that birthed our world and all its projections.