Bend me, send me,
Seeded, then spent.
Ever wretched, ever free.
Smell tells me well
The steel-fed hell she sells.

He'll never regret her sentence.
He's better when rejected.
We were perfect.
Never let me be.

He'd been seen,
Even seven deeds cleft,
When her effervescent scent
Sheened new decrees.

She felt her sex-self remember
When we went,
When we were we.
Where were we then?
Were we well?

The pen bled,
The bed sheltered,
Then we melted,
Felt new senses,
These fervent fleshes entered,
Secrets whence we
Needed the essence,
Kept the embers,
Fed the seekers,
Centers, senders, spells.

Even when we were her secret
She needed me.
She'll never tell.

Even when she seeps red,
Weeps herself green,
Then sweeps herself
Between the sheets,
She'll remember her fences.

These self-defenses
Deflected me.

She sees the cement trees
She's bred me,
Then flees,
Her sweeter senses berthed.

Yes, her eyes wrestled me,
Represented her well.
They kept me here,
Shelved.

Else, we'll never see
The rest.
She tempers seeds,
She left me here.
These sweet revelers
never see.

he/me/he

the end.

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