on lust
Lust is a form of suffering
As a result we keep running into shelves and displays of it
Category: AKA
☦Disguise
Roaches cooking breakfast
Brain waiting inside box of ice
Skin wearing us to execution
Rope trembles in disguise
LAM RUT
I have two spires,
and roof of the lake,
where the whistling soot
thrown over the boulevard
of a great foul heritage
generates the thing to be at rest –
the never-ending need
to have
security
But, you see,
travelling whispers
whisper wherever
My look
was married madly
to what it wasn’t worth