Brand

Dissection of cells reveal naught 

The intention instigates purely, 

Feeling. 

Master scheme designations

Do not fail. 

Indigenous components wake

Once inhalation renounces 

Everything

Else. 

There exists an aroma 

That words wish they were capable

Of articulating,  to prove

This brand of willingness 

Whose inception, devoid of the mind

Encourages wholly

The fuck. 

Prey,

Unknown to itself

Surrenders all physical senses

To pay homage

To the infinite glory of

Animal attraction. 

I remember being young

With honest wishes to obey confusing laws

The drums then were loud

Obnoxious. 

Demanding. 

Those grey areas

Were. Not. Grey. At all. 

But rather succulent shades of rouge 

To bruise. 

And there are bruises worth enduring 

To serve to remind

Of sleepless nights

Spent fucking 

The love of a lifetime.