Aqueous Nineveh

You have done a good thing for a bad man. She is an angel with come in her mouth. I love you, father. What lustful sores must I endure in tune with radio frequencies too audible for logical digestion? I have learned to multiply severity clocks that perforate the insect sentences, but feast so steadily upon her cysts that my seed is sewn as tapeworm maledictions; open walls coagulate when questioned. The ovarian rupture haphazardly ejaculated swarms of wayward eggs into my teeth. With bile producing stomach emphasis I stagger slowly into throat-consuming orgasm, swallowing her children in bright green ruination much akin to mildew.

New Year's Eve

My self
Center fickle
Vagrant narcissistic
Expendable relationship
Nothing

The day
In dispersion
Fruitless concentration
Inamorata revulsion
Silence

Arcane Verity

Wanton
Patulous mouth
Seminal ingestion
Irrevocably polluted
Cheap whore

Regret

Mother's backseat leather cold sky permeating our embrace. Wherein love eyes her on me never fixed; so full her mind with clamor lucid had I that been replaced. But stupid in idolatry ignored I of fears to proven fruitful be; known what of to come with her will for others bending, would never have I touched her. Laughter they scream when my way looking proclaim me the fool that loved a whore.