Her Asmodel mind a poofsmoke of pollutants
Hamaliel, August’s unidle nuisance
Weaves an ensorcelling spell of confusion
I can feel your breath through the computer
Phone sex has me self abusing
I would expose my veins for your profane amusement
You are free to use me
Because I have no use that one can see.
I would smoke your blade-cold sleet poems
If I meant I could expose what minerals vein below
Rainy night and cold blow
Saintly light, old souls with balm for woes
I will consider every man on this planet a foe
To hassle your embattled feeling to grow
Like choking ivy around the stolen ivory of my home.
Alchemisland 
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