Oh how you sicken me
That you deem me my time
The drab leftover upon your plate
That you stab with your fork
And push about
The crust scape of un unwashed dish
No words of love
Just the stench of acid air
As it lingers about your face
My womb thy final triumph
Of the dark red of your day
You deposit all thy known infections
My rage an added interest
From what is left of you
As it seeps down from thy sacride vault
Most savagely wiped away
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