King_B_Rite

"How to Lust a Queen: King Sutra" imagined, theorized, partly written, and typed by: King B. Rite - The Poet/Psycopath



"How to Lust a Queen: King Sutra" imagined, theorized, partly written, and typed by: King B. Rite - The Poet/Psycopath

With a kiss upon the silk like lips of Zenith, the moister that leaves her mouth breathless without speech and thirsty for more attention; a slave to the my hate, no other explanation can describe the obsessive compulsiveness, anxiety filled mental disorder has my beloved in a heap of a panic, a close range heart attack… “Eureka of Eulogy” …eating my heart out of each page; I premeditate… a massive size non-prophet organization that reads, an idealistic circle of nonprofessonal acquaintances that discuss the thoughts of another, literally speaking of an unestablished, nonofficial entourage that encourages words to be written with addiction in order to feed the poverty bound slaves with a silver spoon over filled with lessons to be had; always better to be “A once was than a Never had a chance at escaping the reality of illusion” …with only one way into my chest pounding affliction to show I fear no other, a taunt, a mock, a mental image of King with no rags to cover up the colorful scars upon the torso and limbs… with sweat that drips as thick as the tip of intuition, now mentally depict being fornicated forcefully by imagination! A climatic expression of “Trojan VAR” an invasion to probe the weak minded who once dared to cross the line and threat a fearless, leader that chooses not to lead no other due to not wanting to carry excess baggage in the form of dead weight.

…with nothing else to say. As I have the center of my fist’s erection in the eye of the public moment after moment: Post Meridian and premature ejaculation of being fornicated once again by the dusk of another dawn, I leave it up to my own mind to change the color of the mood to Read to Blew; a dedication to the mind(s) i have blown out of the water; openly... due to the depression it brings to those that once jumped the gun in order to shoot for a constellation that is obviously not in arm’s reach… laughter can slaughter, and tears can be jerked around… Dilemmas are inevitable eventually; even if problematic equations equal with precise precision.

her speech begins to quiver with silence; “SEE; KNOW MORE, SPEAK; KNOW MORE, HEAR; KNOW MORE"

The more you know the less you care to be careful with what is illusion’d; due to knowledge: The Art of being an Artist! No crime in a New Found Way, a self manufactured expression; the dawn of ground breaking literature, the grounds of Chaos… Fault begin to quake with the way I put my foot down: “Testimonial Theatrical Thesis based on True Emotion influenced by Memory”



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