Goose Flight Suit Patches

An arc of crying on the hill screaming
coat my body in the wake of
hell, but is not a
Nightmare?, Is immersed
fog reminiscent of the ancestors of useless
world melted into a cry
echo and desire to censor
breath between the words cut,
to beat your chest, desire and love
come together in sin ...

And you keep calling in the silence of
parallel universes, it ruined the pupil
sunk into the infinite, the thought is
damn ... Defeats

immaculate and blessed altars;
crucifixion of your body nailed next to mine
hammered and lunges
is shamelessly ruthless
my prose is for you,
my promise is the passion of Christ
among men
masturbation and thought they
seeping deep and cutting
breath ...

Are your legs the course of my hands,
the cause of desire that awakens my
ghosts.
Demons in my body die in
you now,
while you lie in my bed
no identity and soul
devour you ...