Loves on Me

a whala-be a rooz! can you think of triangles and the symposium on Platonic essential Tree-thing? Are you compatable with me and what is your relationship to your underwear. Call me under the robes, egalitarian but quite set on the difference between good and evil. Wear this, the closet of shame, the toxins ruinous to the membrane. I know I am good. I am a good entitled and impovished statement on Crime and Punishment, and ofcourse Raskinolicov's flowers. That wallpaper, those walls. Freedom rings with a bell that is made beautiful by the Roses of our final declaration: No Passion Lasts, the last temptation, and where am I, without the T.V and the Elysian Fields. Do I want more than Cleopatra and a snake upon the breast a Lover? I cannot remember? Am I just girl? and do you have shame? With my poisonous flesh, I shall take my own liver and give it to the gods. For I, My Sweet, have an angel. Thank you, thank you, my insane friends, who know exhaustion and the Realm of Compassion.