Sweet spit in the wound,
as ever, snares a spark.
Oh the covetous lune
where lightening strikes
an escaping heart.
Cart and beat
trot and sweet
rippling, crippling
stepped in it steep.
Excavating n-jins
like ears of corn
hungers mystical
edgeless endlessness
broken into like a magical storm.
Sunk into my knees
with a scorching flood of light
a side of red
gear box, bled
and to its bungee,
the cryptic knot tied.
Contagions of avoirdupois
at heavens rim
and pride of sin
a dark sweet spot.
Recursive, candle bombs
roaming rimming
booming zooming
fraught fought and plot–
Goes a long way
lasts, a lot.
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