I heard bones squirt out if his flesh sack like a clattering orgasm. A hail of gristle pelted the concrete.
“I am but rain falling from heaven.”
How versatile was he – he from above. He was a bag of fluid and thought and words and deeds. He came upon us with the stealth of a falling brick. Sheets of glass pissed from the skyscrapers. They sleeted into an ocean of flesh and blood. Humanity – a meat lahar. A landslide of mother’s tears. Everything conspired to purify. It hurt. A lot. And still does. I murder myself every moment I live. Everything collapses into virginity and pushes her belly to the limits of tautness.
Climb within. Stitch her shut around you. Kiss her deadlights in the realm of eternal misery. Trickle down to the final goblet and mount the crucibles within which fester that reptile brew. Scold thy self. Erupt in violent retribution that you might spout a geyser to the firmament. A geyser of meat and tears.