You
give me words
Distillations of burning furor
Remnants of categorical yearning
Crystalizations of loss and wonder
You are fresh
And burnt like toast
A desert morning
Dewdrop Ghost
How I love
Your honeycomb
Let me buzz you
Like a hornet
Incriminate
your sticky threshold
your sticky threshold
Withered petals
Of my soul
No scruples
No morals
No orisons
No rules
You've no choice
But to be alight
I burn every right
Not to be wrong
No content
To my character
No goodness
In my soil
Cook me
In warm virgin oil
Taste me
I boil
You give me words
Distillations of burning furor
Remnants of categorical yearning
Crystalizations of loss and wonder.
dunno when i wrot it.
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