II. La Papesse

The foursquare that confronts us requires a complete gut—

Similar to what we observed in the muscles, tending to be crowded
Except for that beat-to-beat change between heart beats by the vagus
Nerve branch, which enchants the lowest ferment of flesh and wild fruits existing
With the more serious fault of satisfying. That is to say, a mind more firmly
Rooted in its own soil; hitherto considered disparate, transcribes the face—

Attractive to insolents is a priestess, who abandons all interests in her face,
In-flight, or feigned death—Lodes thoroughly worked already by congealed guts

Seized in fear—All of these poses are no less forgotten than reasons a dreamer firmly

Investigates—For the lack of health, for adjuncts to productive days crowded
By files of ancestors, decisive inventions—The neurophysiological state existing
Alongside actual risks of the environment until you tug my viscera, vagal nerves

Speaking with passion about such a remote time—I was shown the vagus
Ramifications that might explain everything—A mark of nobility stamps your face.

Landscapes retaining an imprint of your voice reading shameless paragraphs existing
To conceal more; modern neural tracing techniques portray different orders of gut
Feeling, while the card-house threatens collapse— In conference, your crowded
Posture, crossed in tights; I recall an essential tremor enclosed your cup so firmly.

Neither the unseen divinities nor originals of the ship’s log rooted so firmly
Can alter the fact—Before, the lesson was left to itself. Set by the vasovagal
Reflex suppressing unnecessary heartbeats during expiration in crowded
Trains, by need to cause a stir, or from the most disarming excuse—The facial
Register would have been enough. Your high-minded opinion, its outflow to the gut,
Is lovingly auscultated. Having chosen exhausted physicality, a reducing environment existing

To sop vitamins, excrete carcinogens—Force blood oranges or lobster into the same existence.

Your waking challenge thrown down to me is demonstrate my love of the world as firmly
As a mirror reflects a parade of confessions, jejune conversation, splayed samurai guts,
Solitary deaths within the border of a carpet—If to deflect a course, the myelinated vagus
Nerve, pinned in the écorché figure and ink-wash beneath, engages and regulates the face,
Taps the portal-mesenteric vein for glucose—By this delicate match of appetites, overcrowded

Life readies to reclaim its rights, pull the drape aside—Something of a wild guess crowds

These expressions—The scope of testimony is separated by a toilet tank. Otherwise, existing
On a psychic precipice so easily ablated by bad vibes or oral antibiotics; even the face
Of a clock, when the forecast of our days seems to be numbered, could not firmly
Hold—Wound around your limbs it produces a better effect, even after vagus
Stimulation is withdrawn— Exhalation then decreases the heart rate, and gut

Activity resumes—Our strangled guts threaten another crowded decade in concealment;
Soon no one recalls how it paints so graphically in the mind—Your look, firmly in my face—
Our most secret life passes here, existing elsewhere to vagal down in panic or drunk sickness.