Overslept

 I lay dead like a Saint, a funeral for a Pope, lady priest, cardinals and the papacy of palaces and sexual demons who live among them, the flicking of serpent tongues and smooth breasts, milky white skin and lips licked, a succubus, wicked, warm and inviting, perfect mound, fresh dark bristles, small patch, pink center, toes curl, eyes roll into the back of the head, a bite, bite on the neck, playfully teasing, slithering and wet, a wetness from within, sticky and almost ready to ooze into your mouth, the blasphemed lies of a ruined church, a church full of unclean demons I have discovered, being fucked by demons, sodomized by demons, an orgy of demons, fighting and snarling, violent sexual explosions, the smoky fissure in the bedroom chamber from whence I came.