rest, rest, baby, on my ankles, feel the skin sink it: rink with skates on, cradling figure eights on, get inside the wrapper,
speaking French by the gate hoping the door would open to the commanding plea: once the gates open, stampedes of brown sugared roaches, which shed skin daily, reluctantly through the thinned walls and under cracks.
he refused to talk to me, besides one small moment in time: I broke through his timelessness with mania. it turned him on; I know I hurt him, it made him throb inside his skull.
and here i sit wonderin' where mercury is: can the moon shine some light on me? neptune please stop tricking me, stay right here near my sun and mouth:
**** my *******, neptune, come inside, neptune, come inside-outside come by inside, neptune:
liquor bounces off of my derriere smoke hazes forward: plume grasps your neck and chokes you out, the fog gets thicker.
poles glued to our hands, the pendulum of swirling up and spinning down;
sliding with pearls of sweat, capsules of fluids prance on the floor under my heeled feet, jewels bang against collarbones that hold a vase of gold ash.
handprints, bruises, tight grips on thighs: silkened ripe ***** bounce down to take all someone needs.
here she sings to me in a repeating step-harmony, i close my eyes and see the love-drunk maroon fill my entire vision, there is no black:
the Goddess guides me, it is I singing the song: we sing. she caresses my ears with her intangible lips . . . i stretch to hear the call of a few angels, perhaps begging or commanding I serve them, serve me. i feel connected to the nature of You i feel You. we are here, i roll my neck and close my eyes:
your blood rushes to me, I cry when I feel the images of you: who should I call my godly servants, I am. apart of you in this earth there should not be any servitude, but I know my reluctance on Earth has to do with not wanting to follow God's melody, not the creator God but the God of Being.
Goddess fluorescent. and now the angel that visited me, that kissed my cerebrum, she has flown away, providing me with images,and him, the angel who watches me in that space between Earth and Heaven, goes back to looking at me through the reflection of his sweet watered pond, smiling as he dangles his arm lazily into the water, creating ripples:
the same ripples I feel when I ******, when I blush, when I think of him, when I get the seed of God.