The Frail Man Knelt Down To Service His King – Wrapped In Words

Poor twisted me, poor twisted you, carved my name on the insides of your brain, cut the flesh with little to no care, serendipitously malfunctioning through each twisted moment into the next, surrounding, surrendering, suffocating everything that was and could be, flimsy facts lost in the night, like an eighties saxophone moment in a soft rock anthem, languishing beneath an ending already written, poor twisted me, poor twisted you, carved my name inside your brain, forced myself upon a frail version of who you thought you were, taste my seed as it impregnates your insides, for while your body withers away, my being grows, poor twisted me, poor twisted you….

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