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A Man arrives, on a Ship, from Somewhere; passes through *this
City; carrying within Him, the Residue of other Cities; the Terror of a Life in
other Cities; the Falsity of other Cities;
the festering Shit of other Cities.
This is the beginning or end of what you fear.
There is this (is)
|| (this) Theoretical stance, that “I will Die.”----------àWhich is
absolutely Abstract, absolute Trash
I never did much like the Idea: “For the Rest of my Life”.
So, the Ship that is carrying this Man to my City, must be
Destroyed and it’s as simple as that: each Area of The Face must be Sunk.
When you begin your Approach, I will turn,
I will run; and I have no Idea “Why”
I will find myself hidden in some Alley, repeatedly folding my Hands over
themselves, as I dream of festering all up your Thighs, licking at your Fingers
with some Dipshit immoderate Delight.
It is the Consciousness of Desiring that which refuses to be Restrained.
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