says,
* A MAN WHOM IS BORNE MONEY HUNGRY, IS PRIDEFUL . a fool for sacrifice. WITH THY HANDS SO BLOODSTAINED, TASTES LIKE HONEY. too hard to leave. instilled within the hollow of his bust is heavier than guilt, than the anxiety which erodes him ALIVE. sheets suffocate, ghosts, no, DEMONS bedeviling him cleave the vessel seam by seam, limb for limb, to his essence. pearl white are their teeth, temporarily, then peppered with the blood of his rotting flesh. robert HOWLS, wants to shoot them away, but these corridors only echo & groan. YOU’RE SCARING ME … how they are mean . by dawn, he feels colder, awoken in a foul sweat. aquatinted with these villains, they insinuate. nineteen * the acts of flesh are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery; twenty * idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, SELFISH AMBITION. his teeth grit, knucks white from a hermetic clamp on adjacent sides of the bathroom sink. there’s no longer A MAN in this reflection … no longer a LIVING MAN.