Letter to Trenchbed

I can not wait to embrace you

Smother you in my loins

Miracles don’t exist in orgy

But they do here

They’ll dredge out the mudpit

Past the cold surface scenery

Into the slick oil tides underneath

Sonar implantation

For a more beautiful place

Crossing schematics 

Designed by direction

The allure finally has the breath

A warring angel, with 

Metallic presence

Gunsmoke will pass

You will find now

A place to sleep