Between the eyes write

Between the eyes write "Feelings fucked". I don't finger your almighty thought, stopped up as banked virtues in sewers; kept from flowering as intelligence by something opportune.

Hands raised. Wait for the right motive, while our ludicrous citadel readies for fire in fat crowded mouthfuls of same set flavour servings please.

The walk on the cab white tide
Holding darkess high white voice edge
Find a parasite control
Enough! No, later
Though we paralyse by love pew
Shut

Repeat our quiet words. They tell us dangers conceived in ancient streams convey voices of servants below to the burning day. Gnashing their teeth against tentative values come heads hateful as want when the faint ethic voice of rapture moves us to bed lucky smears. We go party blood away.

The meat is fighting land spit truth
The voice of understanding works
Mama!
A man would like all this that
Except his snores fall
Over stolen cuts of silence
Hurting thumbs asleep from business
Rattling bested cries into his conscious mind
Where the passage whispers down names and
Fronts his whinnying worry game

The devil burns the house of master gone behind whose needs the truncheon stages interview police for prodded doors to little shafts of bullet steam they live away won breath of sky

The air is whispered through the hands of people blessed as risen light into the wall of hideouts shouting down against change. It senses damage child tests clinging free as toys and fighting dreams of fraud affray because there'd been a brick they'd meant to understand called movement.

Use that psychic leisure phone. It's intended to cream seed a roaring baby thought even crystallize prospective cravings into commands heard only by audience hostage and fed shit. They don't wait to take like holy caves another sex 'apostrophized'. As doubt excluded goes public its food is found in mirrored beings, drawn to the game of noble names whined politely.

Next door, on the stormy London road, we were crowded at the factory of princely homes and exposed to festive light on strike relax.

Don't cut from sleeping children laws for need whose benefits escort the infant kingdom cross to dawn tonight, by humpback fish more like astonished merchants paid with unit time wrapped cloud tax; financing ghosts for instant dream snake defence.

I continue striding back to breaking hold. You sooner build where fools turn fools to happy bugs. I see another word blur worlds out when, that yield [mute defences].

Parry will with perfect worlds I'll fly again, behind the stalk of nerve; a sorry pervert blocked within imagination's powdered garden. From the fecal horror lost here after infancy's suckling beard mingles reverie and artefacts divine, bleeds choice from microscopic eyes the beauty whole.

Peeping womb, you wax above our phased divide.

Should we stand in positions washed of dreams no god can prove. Here uniforms speak to fragile stars upon white walls of art, too late for appetites discharged in fear's milky vacancy. Sunk in your last thoughts you conceive a seed of erasure. Death
At the tavern tight in bed with woman weak and dealing away silvered breath to economists broke with marble crowns upon their busy facings

Pick a day
Perhaps the new world
Tomorrow reigns
A night belonging to
Intention grown
Because love dreams
A fostered thing
You're weakened

Hands of mud
An ending shell
Essential leaves
Break their final cells
And put their eyes
To the skull wall
See controls snake
Around my manure
With their scholarly balls
Breathing aromatic dreams

Bad time
Logic gas
Make mistakes clean
With shine smiling
Void