Thou art my seventh angel squirming
'Neath the forked tongue of the beast
Arching toward the fabled
Like a sculptured nymph seeking base relief...
'Neath the forked tongue of the beast
Arching toward the fabled
Like a sculptured nymph seeking base relief...
Whilst the world outside
(A wood of suicide)
Would die for this release
Our slow orgasmic fuses greet...
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