Genuflect

I am on bended knee,
Humble before thy glandial altar,
Prepared to feel thy misbegotten generations slide
Down the back of my throat.
Congealed and elongate,
A thick commingling of liquids,
Thine and mine,
Running down my chin;
A deep sacrament,
drawn forth from thy well of virtue.
As your rolling eyes bend toward heaven,
My raging tongue wrestles your soul in hell,
Where your loins shall find long sought redemption
In the shape of my mouth.

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