Unbridled Domepiece

My domepiece is unbridled; it is a feverish cauldron of seething hatred and visceral love making. The two fronts collide, rendering an omnipotent storm of passion. Dark clouds evolve, like the exhaled breath of a million-year-old mummy brought to life, and lighting strikes through my vasculature with vicious intent. I am a walking twistical. A walking, mystical twistical. . . who happens to like physicals. And chicken tenders.