the last stand in paradigmatic passion

A: a pump the particles past this speed of light. tachyons will tell us of nails driven pre-vi hammer's swing notes sing samsara in thickness, reverse cause effecting.

B: bring these things, to abbey's doors, screaming scratching heretic on bones.
to tear this, filth from skin, of non question asking are you ready? are you ready to die?

C: revolving door, in, out the next, ask me what i'm looking for; it.
rather do i mean am i seen by such opposing eyes? such an opposing mind?

=: ask open, ended, questions, on open

=: these are bruise tattoos from fingers of fists driven in to palms in philos sophia fits. straight jacket laced up around "I" waist
i wait for time to come
"hollow screams" and hollow "me" and hollow dreams of "nothing"

A: a passion filled waxlet of glorious sensation on my skin begs a question, philos sophia infection, half truths, are they ok? are they alright? rather do i mean am i seen by such opposing eyes?

B: purge the skin, with intent, to wind and, wash the flesh, in atonement. the bondage wraps, paper concepts. truth is needle rendered anesthetic.

C: revolving door, in, out the next, ask me what i'm looking for it.
rather do i mean am i seen by such opposing eyes? such an opposing mind?