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Black Mass

by Jon-Jacob F Deal

Shroud the windows, child, lest the righteous cast their stained-glass eyes upon thy shameful deeds.

You were up there,
Down in front and
Shoving wafers in your cunt
While the other, your new lover
Cut the blessed wine with piss

Then with what lust you could foster,
Breathed a backward Pater Noster
As he fucked you on the altar
With a vulture's stinking hiss

Come the Sabbath,
Feeling guilt for
Your defiling what we built
You decide I'm deified and
Offer me your Judas kiss

We walk to the fane together
While you comment on the weather
Like the aching in your nethers
Is the only thing amiss

10/06/2008

Posted on 10/06/2008
Copyright © 2024 Jon-Jacob F Deal

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