I'm tired not even past the halfway point.
A polite death doing sudoku sucks,
so I dream of the hybrids.
Manga punk animal angel.
I'll flee boylove and girllust.
Thought of your touch?
Fills my head with corrosive
Heaven or Hell.
Born Dying will always be
a retropunk cliche collar.
Make all my fucking with mortals be in midair.
Parting upon orgasm,
a falling girl
will sing the queer sequins of human love.
You will illuminate what I used to be.
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