Perception defined thru the godless cunt, her lids sewn shut... The screaming lies and suicides rendered ever muted between her muffled thighs. The bomb of crunk, the junk, the trunk, politicized my spunk. The labium lullaby quiets the storm, the stink of the siren never gone from the smell. The gorgeous swell from the sinuous well, and the spirituality of the perfect tit. To skin and soft, and hair caress to touch and bless. God is the release, not the cure, never true always sure. Toes to skull, in the wraps of the softest crawl... I climb in to the jaw and bite. Soft is wet and wet is sweet, and every fingertip complete from brain to feet. Always visible but what isn't seen? Never truth, the vein is weak. Cuts are deep, scars are prized the dieing never ceased. As I walk thru the valley of the shadow of breasts its mystery fails me. I lose and get lost. I'm warmed by the frost. The unattainable goal never vanquished... yet the stink never washes, it never can. The smell… the smell… the royalty in the smell is what we chase. The face, the grace, always the race, but never the goal. It can't be won. It will never be possessed… Always at the end of the hand, but never in the grip... it can't be consumed but will consume your doom. The heaven of the death, in the rapture of her breath on the neck. The snake wrapped around your heart, the spiny angel wing, the fresh of spring. Close in senses, far in sense. The end of our suffering the beginning of dread. Lost in the silhouette stink forever and always to death. Steal my breath, it was always your to take.