The Marriage of Anarchy and Monarchy


Lest she dies with all mod cons send her back to where she once came from. Let her crawl back in utero tasting the scabs with every breath, smelling the darkness in every musk. Giver her raw flesh to gain her trust. Sleeping on pinpricked sheepskin stinking of alcohol and a pure sweat. Spasm orgasm of the hysterectomy exspector. The speaker lying next to the phone. A shatter crucifix beneath mutilated insomaniacs and the leeches live next door. Feed the river with cold blood. Let your heart drown in the middle of the night. This is the nation of electrofication. They stabbed a flock inside our gods…

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