… I pronounce it. Dead. I pronounce myself to it. Stupid. It pronounces itself to me. I am stupid because I am dead. I ask it, what is a good feeling and what believes in reincarnation. I ask it, can you love me harder. I love it so much it kills me, it’s stupid. I love it so much, like a hole in the head. I love it so much, it’ll eventually fall a part from misuse. A squirrel with the memory of an elephant. What is its purpose other than taking on the burden of my regrets. I love it so much, its genitals make it look so American. I love it so much,
I rub cooked lamb all over my body.
Spritz on a little Ungaro. I love it so much, I’m cuckoo. I love it so much,
I want it to give me whiplash. Perfectly organized until death. I love it so much,
wanna fuck. I love it so much,
drink this poison honey …