If I could pull my head back together to tell you from the beginning, I would. The truth is as frail as the icicle shrapnel that shrouds her cocoon. Her leopard beasts lick my wounds. Earthworms feed through my head like a tomb. Let me peel off my skin and ravage you too. You are my oh-so-hot-and-smooth. This is the formula. Drink of this phobia. Will you be my turbulence? A convocation of convultions rippling down his aged brow? I saw you through the ventricles. Wings flapping at the tenticles. This marked the broadcast of lepers and their stagnant howls.