deepundergroundpoetry.com

Taboo and Pine Tar - with Crimsin

In seance with a corpse ventriloquist into the
lobotomy's shallow grave of dark equilibrium
and hingeless chamber doors gathering the
wool of the soul lusting for the humidor
addicted to the fragrance of pine tar
obsessed with attar of her decadent majora
and�the sour milk and cream that won't pour �
riding a cold crooked voice of corseted graves
clinging to my clothes obsessed with incestuous
cloves �

darkly my brother goes the night of obsession
with obscenity's prayers on your lips
looking at my loins thighs and hips
brittle is the ecstasy of incestuous reality
your lust is evident every time you look at me
secreted in the heart of this lady of flesh
and what it feels like to be had by a man
take me quickly at midnight then repent
your sins come dawn's early blite
washing the blood from your robes
and such thoughts from your glance