Monocoque

The totality of an ends-meet running engine
Is under subject of structural analysis
An organism is nothing but the sum of its parts
So forth on, as above, so below
She comes in like a rippled plaything
At least, call it a predisposition, call it an act
Of proximity and thoroughbred limerence
Melodies sang only in dug out trenches
While enemy bomb-shells slide past the lip
Another form of fear generating acute danger
Achtung! Verboten!
But there is so much more excitement in strangeness,
Daddy
Sometimes we think in two
Most of the times you do the thinking for me and you
Lust dies when there are no more cries
For reprocussion
Alas such conjoined float can prove to be effective
Could even be streamlined and improved
Ultimately though, perhaps even penultimately
IT shall be, replaced, even erased

"You write with your hand, but it's Rimbaud's arm."
@zenmotherfucker