Mehujael Bracelets

we shall inherit (it) & be (His) angels

before them in
Mehujael bracelets for
Him; for my death: pilled
white baskets wherewith
enter departed
bracelets adorned in eyes,
lips, the shadows of Egyptian
slaves.

his servant brought you to me
which thou flee (the field)
bad heavens over Ethiopia
increased upon his foreskin
of Edom; gopher
he kept them
having been drunken
on me as of yesternight
unleavened men fell before me

Jesus Christ redeemed from thee
as a trade sharp sword must be fulfilled
by slaying

saints & sorceries
liars' gates on their hands

the marriage of fire & ice. the heads of Satan dwell inside our code. Remember the Alleluia is also a scream. death shall be filthy flowers for mighty men. a king so much the seven plagues yet come and had in graves from God of God we rot then rule all nations

which hold onto their teeth.

The Self-Love Formula

the self-love formula
separated us
from the correct shape
of our reluctance
to experiencing
this

con_sequent legend
microbe rationalism
Julian ejaculation
philosopher watching
cow-dust compulsion
of having hurt the fearsome
objects of our subtracted difference
of any refracted inference
to reproduce this objective
value that I palliate
into indifference

The Dirt on the Mirror

Rehctaw specters. mirrors over run with Zod-ka gospels. the dirt on the mirror. these words. bend into a single point and then vanish.

under starlight. have you ever felt anything so genuine as an axe?

a poverty of objects that are now gods too. fortune-telling computations. transmigrating universals. egocentrics' familiars denied death.

bless us our unclean convalescent stage arises out of a ruptured center for consistency of succeeding analgesia. justified negations.

sent[I]ence possession: 'people' deeply.

& all my meanings are mere persuasions to obtain an indifferent revelation. though I fail. my maiden-self is famous for integrals.

alone in service to climb this God because ecstasy implies vanity implies preferring self-deception to militant matrix gifts.

in excarnation we recreate these pitiable stars as pragmatists wish for immunity from the Albatross. asleep in its animal instincts. its breathing methods. its bodies for breathing.

take away time. returning space.

At the Moment of Loss

go without hurt
when withering
any desire is caused by
a lack of appreciation
back to sleep
this hidden virtue is
a small belief
in the the difference
between good and better

remembering
all man's incarnations
are such and such bondage
forget the remoteness
of our efforts
a wiser virus
to incarnate pleasure
and vision this Nowhere
the paralysis of a lover
can be reduced to the
deceiver-self (unforgivable) ecstasies
along a memorial course
complete & escape me
generating everything else
deliberate acts
if your wings are
fearlessly
haunted