Prancing infection, jubilant
in fuzz of forgetting,
and some ways prone to
leaky hands. Titillate specifically.
So pose me matter-of-factly.
Sinus rats among the mishap,
sleek, disposable.
Quietly pull my gawk.
I possess much itch.
All appropriate, slither sanguine sex.
As belligerent as prose
and almost as exacting,
the night of the world personified in plaque.
Redact artificial vertigo. Slow on we.
The time of hibernation
heaves its hexes.
-r. miller
*Insert Propaganda Here* 