.














                                            




­







                                              SO.me um sum *******

                                                uff ruff ******* so
                                                polished; leashed
                                                IN

     ­                                                      your
                                               spread your *******
                                               mouth
                                               let's (wider)
                                               hard i'm
                                               going
                                                         to

                                               so those
                                               fukin
                                               take em off
                                               satin white
                                               little littles
                                               ,
                                               ****(do you like it when

                                                i "yes
                                                ))))        ­       please

                                                please


­                                                 "hurt me
                                                  into apart teeth .   teeth
                                                  fingers inside

                                                  inside tongue
                                                  tonguing­ little
                                                  rrufff stubble

                                                  neck neck:

                                                  throat.
­
                                                  Gag.

.































                                                "Did you **** him?"
































.

w

          w



                         wh



                                             what loves


                                                     this
                                                        I?i
                                                      loves the
                                                      rushing of in girls
                                                      Summer when heat
                                                      does its lips in forked
                                                      seething.

                                                       I loves
                                                       the hush
                                                       of almost winter nights
                                                       and the concise
                                                       melancholy
                                                       of empty rooms.


                                                        I loves
                                                        the by
                                                        cherriest of wristness
                                                        to loosely
                                                        in vagrant slumber
                                                        stir whitely.


                                                        I loves
                                                        the brother of my brother, and
                                                        the little timid
                                                        of barely unviolence boys
                                                        (in fists very tightly which).

                                                         But.

                                                          w w   ww what loves
                                                           Iis
                                                           the most
                                                           of life
                                                           and lessing
                                                           too
                                                           of it
                                                           into
                                                           primest daftness of sleep.

.























































                     "You're in love with love.

                                        You don't love anyone."













































.

first love,
in whose body
my soul is made,

                                  the whiteness:
                                  your crisply
                                of
                      ­        scent
                            is like
                          when
                        parts­
                      the long
                   night
                     budding
                        the crimson
                     tooth
                   of
                       dawn
                    'pon
      
           the edged back
           thinness of
           mountain hair


(growing fairly towerish
it sprouts
as sprouts the sea
the freshest breath of life
to take by inimitable quavering
the softness of mind to depart
knowing

                      and kiss into

           the sweetness of darkness      (



                                w
            ­                     h
                                 ere

              sleep is
              nice
                              and
        
  ­                  comely wilting snow
                    on the blade of heat
                                     '
                                     ;
                                     .

i like the see feel needs
the hands and
the **** maybe.

i like the sun you hot river a.

i like the by your bank cheeks,
tween the fists of Spring an' Summmer.

i like the to hold your mouth
closely tight
with my hands
and in your hair playsome
grasping an' pull.

i like the splitting of your flower to bleed.

and i like how when stillness completely is your body.

i like(and i like you)and i, like you, am

love.

i feels it the
keenly reeling
offall to

                LEAP


completely mortalness
(and kiss by dashing

           w
         i
            n
         gs

the juice'd plumpness
day's killing
           )
                       fleet,

                          '

                                   ;


                            



                           .

fall into sleep thy body always Spring,
let thy hair uncrisply from mutest gold
turn from youth's splendors

                        towar' wrinkles; fold.


of thy mouth make early nothing,
as April flowers tender

pass thy lips to clearings cold
with kissless hours slender.


fear not the weary mile
treaded years shall always bring

walk in fasted silence
and of thy ending slowly sing.

"hey, where are you" i walked amongst the sea to find you sleeping in a flower i"m outside, **** i missed" to stoke between your roots "i missed your text" a spark "ok" i felt when our lips were furred in kissing's "i'll see you in a minute" unhurtfullest punch

"I can't sleep," she said her lips were and body went a forest to the very edge of the sea.