TIME IS THE MEASURE

Thoughtful cuddle of summer rain and unveiled sky, For an instinctual idea, A password to a soul, An algorithm of magic cube, Uploads an inoculated dream, Applies antidote against antibiosis, Symbiosis for those who have name of surrugate love, Anxiety for a presence, A romance, Of fine requested access, By integrated neurons and circuits, At the same time dependent creator and setup creation, Both because of an unlimited knowledge, An affection not shared yet.

LOOKING THROUGH A GLASS ONION

How does it feel like to be dead? How does it feel like making me feel like I've never been born? Now that a yellow matter custard is dripping from your fucked up and dead bitch dog's eye? What else the semolina pilchard has to brine? What else the Hare Krishna elementary penguin has to sing? Now that you let your face grow long? How does it feel like to be crooked? How does it feel like making me feel like I've never been straightened up? Now that you sunbathe in cast iron sand beach shores? What does it itch you there? What do you have left to give? Now that you let your knickers down? You´re a fucking pornographic priestess. You´re a fucking ecclesiastical bawd. You´re a fucking pedophile sacristan. You can no longer hide your dovetail joint in your pussy. And what a place to stick it up! How does it feel like to be a pruning? How does it feel like making me feel like I've never been flourished? Now that you are just a bent backed turban? Now that you can only fix holes in the ocean? Now that you let your onion stink? Where´s the next pigsty the piggy will stir up the dirt? You´re a fucking pornographic priestess. You´re a fucking ecclesiastical bawd. You´re a fucking pedophile sacristan. You can no longer close the door the thief will break you down. And what a place to steal!