The napkins I've been sewing are for your children.

You kissed my red necktie and made a sweet spot.
A sweet spot.
You kissed.
My necktie.
Drugs had you and a childhood me andfoursideswarredinamberstinginglikecitrusbutwhenwecombinedourbloodbatheswewere Sweden.
Let me explain something to you:
Your hands on my bodyoutofmysquares
You broke through likeoutofaneggshell
Bringer of the lightwham
Your tongue never knocked and yeah it's holy thunder whenyouglidethroughthereanddownmygutsbecomechurchandwhen
talking while kissing when shuttight my eyes are then modeled by you we watch that projection of our
INSIDESOFMIRROROFUNIVERSE POTENTIAL
Why?WeintersectedonplanesweFISTEDthroughandshatteredtheprismthatcontainsalltheGODgodsandtrufflesand
TolstoysaroundtheneckofwhatHEpaysduestoandYOUbecamemySUITCASE-MYINSEAMmysafebeam
WHO QUIT DRUGS BUTcannotquitmeforfiveminutesyousaidthisI
listened I am this now I
knowthatI'dmakeyouapieeverydayIknowyoudon'tlikesugarsomuchbut you  made me of it when
WeshatteredthroughthatprismANDeverythingbecameMORETHAN
I want to explain:
That we'renolongerinboxes
I want to explain: that more
hasnoshapeno
Bearer of the sweet stains
Buyer of the curry
Marcher to the good cause
BEST of the BREAKDOWNS
Melter of the WAXWORKS
Clockbraker for the BADTIMES

The napkins I've been sewing are for your children.

BLOODtransfuser
you've made honey of my meltspots
A prayer of my larynxwhenyoumadethatsweetspot
I now untie things
thankstoanarchitectofsomethingbetter
the champion for overalls
My subparts gummies
I would leak citrus lactic
if someonepushedmybuttons
nolongeranupsidedownstarfish
no finger pushingthroughit.
Nosinglefinger.
Nomorefingers.
Just soft, everything, a neat bag to take calmly into the not organized.
When God goes home he's going to make that kind of sandwich.