Naked are The curtains of your blood Transversing the Veil that murders your Expressions. Floors above the ceiling Heeled want to touch you.
All along borders of Blood fail to mix you In their love-aching Whipping.
Tenacity has dotted Your hands in groovy Rooms filled with the The blood you failed To diverge from your Eyes
Hot and stinky In your crimson Cave of a window Shadows pigment Your esthesis. Ecstasy crayons
The targerine pigment Of your lips. Why don't You stain your blood with My grim? Am I not enough for your Cacoethes immorality?
Lips caress me In vain, my will Drained your veins I'm a puppet With stained blood From her fever For rubby flesh.