Anatomically correct, for the most part.
Loves the smell of Amber, Tar, dried Absinthe and wood. Has a knack for describing what vaginas taste like.
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Father,this rupture in me drives us further apart
I'm ready, I guess
thrashed into submission
Somewhere in my gut,
swollen with chthonian shame
Lay hyacinths on the carved eyes of the hailing corpses,
And haul them off the ship
They shall settle,
I am not whole, i am but fragments piercing the silence
white noise against white screen
a monochromatic bulls-eye
i am but a retina here,
We have come so far,
In the silverware, I can make out your oven so bright and indiscernible it could be death,