CRESCENT CUT

A very intimate Stream of Consciousness / Bitter-Sweet Prose / Subliminal Patterns

I was hesitant to release this this due to how personal it is to me

---

Flicking her fingers and so comes a spark, something’s happening that’s twitching with deviated lingering ache - in madness, it’s spilt, blotching the white tablecloth she is mounted upon, sundering all that Is seen, hoping, to what could never be — again

hankering what once was denied by agency of the knowing  its bled into my tastes an imitating cacoethes that’s stunned her into that arbitrary game

And this flogging feels-like-fucking-flying! Oh so buoyant, it’s the sting, still remaining poised, wondering who POISONED the WELL you drink from! Resenting humbly, the souvenir memories,

ARHAH!

Kick the cache, lick the pith fluid - RIGHT UP! Have me coming back for more, crawling atrociously on all four—FOR SIMPLE gain..!

You want those misfortunes to exit, to let me eat your forbidden fruit all day(s) on this catharsis table, loving hate to deem I’LL AIRFREIGHT! It feels lighter with each lick - her cleansing causes seizures - akin to consuming borate

Soul consuming, voice lost whilst void gazing in tremendous pitfall - DARK EYES - uncaring for latency, severing, cut-cut-cut itself on what be marking, never able, the never could sedate - constantly drinking from that slow drip - no censure - flushing this vermillion taste

3 days

the trigger

They’ve had enough

Somewhere I still am

Buoy Up

©2025 DOMO CAMPOLO / JOHNY ODD