Cross sword To guilty neck Await gushing Gasping Breaths Allow only Mindless mania Maybe matters My own hands
Wherefore airflow Makes the throat close The eyes shut The mind drowns Straight from out of town. Allowing angels free passage The nightmare of their baggage Slams slime, real lime into Bashed bottles, ends smashed Muddled, the liquid foams takes Form where none is usually Had, a hat, a rat, ready to die Removal of a skeleton Where real lovers lie.
