Centurrhea, botulism of the soul developed for decades and decades straight into the bowl of de-ossified man and his clan of cave bears swearing into the forest that they would never leave this place. Half-ham of disgrace had to face the loggers which cleared have the forest away. Take heed then bleed into my seed. Plant the ants, half of which take a switch to the unborn witch who makes my fingers twitch. Taking testimony to the hegemony that gathers fact from the ashes of gnats burned in the holocaust of Hobb-Garroth where the flame of the burnout is seen. Half dreams in waking states make me mate with the witches unseen. Tender breasts slide against my hard chest. Beat the pests, send them out of here. Spin with me in my sphere.