BOSCH
In the beginning there was see them, in a deep mouth of flesh, and the crest I traveled, on the way we'll clear our mess, through the tunnel of mucus.
And on a torn ball, was still a recent traffic, I had just pasted myself, not I as my whole self, just the half that I had, before agreeing arrest, of my better half.
A connection was made, in a shared love of science, and vows were taken, a seat was hired, a camera flew, brought shape to my hide, in the months that remained.
To the time of my life, I thrashed for the reason, of spilling from the crack, to the palms of a doctor, to a town full of straps.
My brains wouldn't fit, through all the insects, an incision was made, when the scout wore a mask.
I said another security, and not how it hurt, went like a cherry, in the bloodbath of birth.
To the time of my life, I thrashed for the reason, of spilling from the crack, to the palms of a doctor, to a town full of straps.
To the time of my life, I thrashed for the reason, of spilling from the crack, to the palms of a doctor, to a town full of straps.
