A DEATH MORE INCARCERATING

It seemed nothing odd to me; if the walls of my stomach didnt

crave for a single morsel of succulently bountiful food; even for
an infinite indefatigably painstaking of my lifetimes,
It seemed nothing odd to me; if the whites and blacks of my eye
didnt crave for a single globule of compassionately celestial
moisture; even for an infinite limitlessly acerbic of my lifetimes,
It seemed nothing odd to me; if my intricate veins didnt crave
for a single pinch of poignantly crimson blood; even for an
infinite boundlessly treacherous of my lifetimes,
It seemed nothing odd to me; if the periphery of my lips didnt
crave for a single innuendo of blissful smile; even for an infinite
unsurpassably satanic of my lifetimes,
It seemed nothing odd to me; if the hollows of my ears didnt
crave for a single trace of euphoric sound; even for an infinite
uncouthly divesting of my lifetimes,
It seemed nothing odd to me; if the periphery of my bones didnt
crave for a single horizon of strength; even for an infinite
salaciously lambasting of my lifetimes,
It seemed nothing odd to me; if the trajectory of my cheeks
didnt crave for a single triumphant blush; even for an infinite
ominously debilitating of my lifetimes,
It seemed nothing odd to me; if the soles of my feet didnt crave
for a single cushion of ebullient grass; even for an infinite
indiscriminately crippling of my lifetimes,
It seemed nothing odd to me; if the curvatures of my untamed
nails didnt crave for a single uninhibitedly ardent itch; even for
an infinite hedonistically massacring of my lifetimes,
It seemed nothing odd to me; if the passageways of my throat
didnt crave for a single ounce of water; even for an infinite
tyrannically devastating of my lifetimes,

It seemed nothing odd to me; if my armpits didnt crave for a

single trickle of enchantingly golden sweat; even for an infinite
unstoppably penalizing of my lifetimes,
It seemed nothing odd to me; if my eyelashes didnt crave for a
single feather of fantastically unbridled sensuousness; even for
an infinite unceasingly slandering of my lifetimes,
It seemed nothing odd to me; if my tongue didnt crave for a
single jet of tantalizingly emphatic saliva; even for an infinite
brutally asphyxiating of my lifetimes,
It seemed nothing odd to me; if my majestic manhood didnt
crave for a single draught of spell binding fertility; even for an
infinite parasitically obsolete of my lifetimes,
It seemed nothing odd to me; if my strangulated nostrils didnt
crave for a single breath of unlimitedly mesmerizing freshness;
even for an infinite diabolically slaining of my lifetimes,
It seemed nothing odd to me; if the jagged outlines of my teeth
didnt crave for a single wholeheartedly reinvigorating bite; even
for an infinite disparagingly oblivious of my lifetimes,
It seemed nothing odd to me; if the apertures of my hindside
didnt crave
for a single symbiotically ameliorating expurgation; even for an
infinite traumatically castigated of my lifetimes,
It seemed nothing odd to me; if my heart didnt crave for a single
beat of unassailably fructifying love; even for an infinite tawdrily
truculent of my lifetimes,
It seemed nothing odd to me; if my conscience didnt crave for a
single horizon of everlastingly blessed righteousness; even for
an infinite violently unsparing of my lifetimes,
It seemed nothing odd to me; if my soul didnt crave for a single
beam of optimistically enlightened peace; even for an infinite
dolorously pulverizing of my lifetimes,

But if the fathomless realms of my brain didnt crave for

immortally bestowing poetry even for an infinitesimal single
second; I perished to an end more ghastly than the most
forlornly flagrant of hell; a death which was more sadistically
incarcerating; than an infinite of an infinite more of my destined
lifetimes.