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Touched by Jeqon

the Inciter,

well-rounded womanflesh

doth tempt

the Angels of the Watch

to sin,

and their Sons are

Nephilim

Thrice Blessed are we in His Garden:

we have the Word, our health, our kin:

as we «go forth and multiply,»

we take from each other’s skin

Endogamy: the Choice of millions

in (all their) Elemental ugliness:

in the echoes of Repitition,

Imperfection sires itself

Nothing in Life

has any business being Perfect:

it’s an affront

to anyone with good taste

Choice is Divine,

so choose Family over stangers;

why trouble the Waters

of the gene pool for a mate?

Carbon Vessel

carbon content

carbon copy

…Carbonize…

Like a lump between to surgeons,

Man quivers 'twixt desire and need;

the Law is the Will, and we’ve chosen

the Kingdom of Which we would be In filial Sect,

we are Genesis Incarnate:

in our faces,

see Manifest Destiny

(and) leave nothing alive

With thoughts of Heaven come deeds of flesh:

we’d look once more upon His Holy Visage,

and our children whom we’ve known and wed

(are) our means to recreate His Image

In lurking Fear of His Displeasure

after dark, between their cries,

in the Eye of the Beholder:

this is where Beauty dies

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