miasma of detoxifying wretchedness, part 2

Apportion of time to (Presumption of Life Architecture) repine TWANGING perradiddle
liberated fealty to accident divorced from re re re re re re re repercussions:

Incubus—inured hubris shelled
the unrequited honesty,
exposing the meat
of this soft-shelled nut.

And a
purple-soaked teat.
Your law.
My hindsight.

Phil woke up wet and a cold red spread though his rigid memory of the moments immediately preceding his being asleep. The hue snapped into a lyrically soaked rubber band blue,
stretched to the point of waning elasticity;
creased azure.

Soiling your spring-off with your wretchedly twisted broken pain and recidivistic familial dysfunction, you bitch.