blasphemy

they sat down to pray
once again
shedding clothes and shedding skin
barely
it was iron he tasted
abated
spluttered gore
...
there was discharge
lisping whispers
of the saviours lore
momentary sensation
once broken
defective
then silence
and nothing more
but clots
within those fleshy wounds
...
once they chanted
and within this chant he wanted
to be /her/
enter deeper than anyone’s ever gone
eager
aware she was the perfect receiver
of his passionate fever
t[y]ranny
madness
truth