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1st girlfriend.

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  • 1st girlfriend.

    she wanted less poetry, to be alone with an horrific thought, to not appraise her light laughter, and to treat respectfully Her guardians, made of energized splinthers, smiles to some, laughs to others ... the only problem was, that such levity was heavy, much too heavy for myself to stomach. Such pain in their sad eyes, lunging from beneath athrone, and no black light to distrust my Halloween Insane. Sunder that toil breaks into glitter, shut up in my mouth, her name, link of sausage afraid of dogbark ... while somehow every book makes its own Pressing issues(anger managed me). and her name another year ago is still much changed, I still fear pain, I still laugh at their pain, and I am Not shallow.
    For to be judged by Zosimos, first, as the blood starts rising in curdles. As my roiling fetid breath laughs at Whom you think you are. Our ancient spirulina, poison cries from little cowherds, I in my bleeding can almost hear ... can almost hear the difference between Exilic hell, and a certain penchant for such shaky syllables. And, the recent death, O herr Luciferøš, is not mine, is not his; though your laughing penetrates my recess. Marbled by the coming of the Age, screams of God, such name that Capital cannot any longer count.


    The Child, it is seen, is NOT innocent, a lie from His beginning. While to thee, Thanatos never smiled nor laught at those impertinent penetrations. And his Fenestrating fingers point, and She walks with green robes, acting as if Innocence weren't capable ... Father, is it not enough? Your deadly angel sat upon the curb, sits, a devouring Eagle untouched. Upbringing, upbraided, searching for a helpmeet, or the great Soros, very blondè, very very strong, and incapable of Lies. She has lied ... to himself ... All too Human.


    Religious overtones, diced until excused from being a capable responsive human. Very late, the party ended, and you were alone, trying to do something else. While the Ophanim, of restrained excess, laugh, ugly, conceited, and full of wrath [of wrath]~ v-rai' es. dµ.

    thou quivering silence, obey.
    that tempest she excuses
    is never much else than Her lesson. Not mine.
    Asleep, I ask, how can we realize
    His Real Name?

    Enter Oz, my culpable unknown God,
    lauded by the festering silence
    Into this demonaic parading Spirit.
    She will never, ever be seen
    Glutted again.


    tongueless for centuries-
    My devoted Fakir.
    my Muslim hate
    my syllabi,
    roman, antic, and entreating.
    no red and no green.
    Prosaic forest.


    Awaiting Nuriel's unsheathing,
    his approach thru.
    Awaiting thee, O Nµrïêl:.,