how doth thee feeleth?
ten seconds aft'r rec'rding yond tiktok
and t's just thee
high-lone
did surround by syrup
and who is't cleans all yond?
is't thee?
doth thee wipeth the counteth'rtop?
scrubeth t hard, i presume.
and all yond on the flo'r.
doth thee receiveth on thy hands and hams?
on all fours
and wipeth endlessly?
boweth down
liketh thou art w'rshipping some god
one who is't c'rtainly doesn't behold kindly on thee
and at which hour thee tryeth to receiveth up
from those impossibly sticky flo'rs
doest thy corse stayeth?
as if 't be true did trap in hell?
i desire so