A NARCISSUS LOVER.PART 4

Nuking this neurosis with the girth of its necromancy,ossifying battered chins with the ounces of its osmosis,sometimes it charms the sunset or the sunset or midway gallivant of the twains,And then like the mastery of a pastime,a pastel of a clopp'd psycho-pasty morphology,leaving him a prisoner of love,in that penumbra of peptalks.Not pent up pennyworth but perforce not pennypinch'd,wherein his virtuous peregrination eschewed,yet was she perforating to his performing arts of peremptory gybes.'Thou canst not see that ravaging venom in my eyes,mine feet are sparkling roadhogs,ready for highway love,whereon mine quartz of love like every twain,turns its frolics into rhapsody,My tiptoeing grandeur being its wings,doth grandly inflexible,mubh rigid like a riffleman firing his riffle,o how fast that riffle is running and doth not bicker my velvet but still burning fremescent bonemarrow,nevertheless thy slanging matches,still not impatient,in thy assymetry,would in thy riot not me rinse down nor would i read the