No more of the scratching at my body store of itchy minds ripping in line flick lines you are the shine,
tearing structures put thoughts to the bearings of ash in flesh the reals of slade sanding stone bones in air,
explosions that Humanity is dying to have remind no one this is salve throwing up in middle rup. you,
twisted sucking lungs burned yet still alive in no death the scars you'll see for longer than the moment me.
The mortality that shall never come breathes each name in sew come freezing rain as shelter vains rest know,
sketch the factor with mathematics in raptured as a vice to whom has felt the anchor of death timely,
for my place in every spot for always is alone for this I am the Wares of Creations Evolving Tongue bit,
bloodied by your Past to Futures of your Loom yarning the Spool of Threads so apropos you've lead.
Lung Shot
