My sleep, you ever perturbing; ruthless breaking of this glacier infused ocean. 

You walk, took me over the lights and the trees to find my woman from the inhospitable holes. 

Sex, my impeccable beauty; I contain no other… than your deliciousness. 

You war, induced me with luscious romanticism, took my bread and left a wounded poem to drink with. 

Comrades, joined me with your phallic desperations, shaded a tear and one or two lives inside this neurological-camp. 

A vessle sleeping awkwardly on shore. Slapped and pastered beyond the stretch of a lifetime, 

bring that last swim, bring that last drink, bring that last sensation of puberty. 

Death won’t ‘tremble’ to take me, I won’t ‘tremble’ to take me, 

we both would kiss on our asses and be the whitest Lillies to be ever appeared out of ashes. 

And after all what a man wants more than getting burned out with poetic endeavors!  

 

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