Immunity
Curve me a piece to bite from the oyster parts of the beast
Best suited to slink down my wrinkled dry throat with ease
being the bits most tender to the bite
Say I'm parched, bone dry parched, I fear I might just crumble to dust any moment
Anything hard might only hurt my frail throat, and even stall peristalisis is what I'm saying
Innards still dense in moisture and sustenance will do me well
They'll plump up my wrinkled dry throat at last, the better to funnel my shrivelled gut
Please throw in marrow off its bone with the offal to oil this flaky canal of mine
Feed me the best bits off the scariest of beasts and bake me cakes with its blood and bile if you can please
Let me chew on its hide and suckle all its venom into me, till I'm rendered immune to its attacks
I've tried and tried many a time I truly have
there seem to be no other way except through and I've had it with the hide and seek
There is not even one bullet to bite in this case
I did bother to look and even readied my jaws for the task
There is only a baptism of acid rain that threatens to leave frayed nerves bare, raw and dangling from the edge
Enough to drive one insane with frustration at the very least
Cover me with the grease off the beast's caul fat I beg of you
Let me piggy back off its slippery nature and swifly slide on through to the dawn of my rebirth
Hand me whatever it has for a third eye so I can use it for a microscope
Feed me to the beast let me gnaw my way out of its gut to know what makes it be the way it is
Afterwards feed me it's most tender bits so I can be immune to its bite for life
Copyright © Stafish Olor | Year Posted 2021
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