I do
but i dim switches
Jilling Jack and much else
smelting the river
of black nectar
your heaving breasts
have rest
upon.

Ooze the Unforgivable night
a shade less bleak
than a Season
Of open
wounds.

Sell me your secrets;  and I'll be the one
to arrive, electric
tripping on your
scene

like a moth
to a blink
And
otherwise.