THIS TIME
THIS TIME
TIME THIS
Our hands interwoven between the cracked splinter cells, we extracted the oblong bone wire; for there was no need for the thirdent in our mist, fought corrupt consumation of the Cedrus libani. Strung roots stretched inside terrashell interface as the molden maggot made its way to the surface, gnawing on the fresh roots of ficus religiosa.
We saw it. We saw it with our innumerable eyes. Our sacrebonic was not enough, and the third (un)holy was birthed, limbless and depraved, snapping at the culmination of a hang-wire.
Olfaction brought mu'assel into the cardiovascular. It was unmistakably Methuselah's (un)doing. His eyes were jaws snarling and snapping ravenously while his runiferious throat revealed its midnight oil debris.
Nevertheless, we were promised reprieve. The wooden novel smiled at us, waiting to be brought into life.
And so we climbed upon his rhytibrae, climbed until we reached the crown, the heleotaxical apex of this godforsaken benighted journey. We consumed his letters with greed, each of us thirsting for more like the juvenile harpies we were, until finally the tree dropped dead and inscribed into my ideomotor ruling the fated initials:
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet,
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet,