S81

West Wing

God hammers the night with the babbling of an idiot and the white hug caresses his back-semen, it sews his lips with clouds in order to tear out his eyes instead of cursing the wind that blocks his shadow over the shabby roof of his sanity, he longs for another fix of creation where Adam and Eve scourge themselves with the eyes of the snake; their knees spit black stars out.

East Wing

Lucifer gets his morphine-wings tidied up while the ticks suck from his sex the guffaw of the dead poet, he screams to break the diluted obscurity in the temple, and the ovoid walls defecate the beating of vengeance watered down by oblivion.

South Wing

She menstruates my demons over the casket of despair, his ghosts-amphetamines kill themselves every night framed in my bones, I masturbate her corpse with the wrath coagulated in silence and her shadow reflects my name in a sky injected with ashes

Illustration Yoshitaka Amano