My Toilet is a Harsh Mistress


Frank Sauce's toilet is kind of like a worm hole.
Here, inserting words into the toilet Words you don't like anymore The one's you could do without|wasted words|the one's you love the most

I wanna grow full in a toilet of sin A white night precedes me in this wanton wiggle my hips have gathered

You have stasis and I have nine Where are your morals now?

The architecture of debris: Debris is trees If you get caught in the flow, you become debris.

you are the wound spray of my debris basin

Asleep thigh while reading lies in news makes me want to get off the toilet, but I'm stuck Can't move

that’s the toilet for you

Frank Sauce

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