Have you ever wrapped yourself in a golden pothos vine? Thus entangled in an artery flowing with carbohydrate and the blood of Earth, have you ever buried your hands in the soil and screamed? Wondering if the Devil could hear you? Wondering if you, like the vine, were meant to grow forever and never reach a destination. Fecund to no finality. Prolific without a point.
What good is gold without a god to eat it?
What good are you without a god to use you?
Contemplate the Devil’s ivy Growing nowhere Robust in deprivation A new leaf named spite Another named reward You watered nothing And you got everything…
A fecund plant with much to tell you. Ask her what the Devil wants of you, she'll give you gold spewed straight from Hell. She’ll whisper his missives as she wraps you in her ever growing embrace. Do what she says. Always.
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