the end of one nail becomes a
play only once on one white parched
shell

she imagines a wire to reach her fixed
point against novice chance chalk
now

with care we invent the bones as we go
one turn the last of what spit may mark
fair

sunlight
where
your
fatal chord
of music
strains
the mute
scepter
of night
bleeds
crimsonly
a thin note
of thigh
parting
light(


                      your
             mouth
                       which
                 ekil
                      is
                         a
               turned
                         upon
                   medallion
                 ofvery
          Spring.Agape

                     T
                     o
receive

                              the


thick

                  brutal


          ***


                     of poppies

      )

.                                                                ­            WNTR, o
                                                          
                                                                ­  the     earth


                                                                ­  is how long

                                                               ­                           
                                     ­                                                      )in you?

                                                           ­       crisply perhaps

                                                        ­          stiffmuscling die erected
                                                         ­         foal trees. Barely skinned

                                                        ­                       ,

                                                              ­                    .

                                          ­                                           '

                                                              ­                     .

                                                              ­                 ,

                                                              ­                      .

                                        ­                                                 '


                                                             ­                       .
                                        ­                                           H
                                                               ­                  e   A
                                                               ­                     V
                                          ­                                       y with
                                                            ­                 light dying
                                                           ­                of    shadows
                                                   ­                  )between

                                                       ­                             o
                                  ­                                             WNTR
                                                            ­              i skip a penny
                                                           ­                    across
                                                          ­          Bu
                                                    ­              g e
                                                               ­  yed june

                                                           ­                        (Ag
                                                             ­                        irl inn

                                                            ­                      ot enough
                                                          ­                   clothing


                                                      ,cuz it was june o lord it was so hot i could feel my sweat across the

                                                       palm of each hand go slick like oil across the cool common pinch
                                                       of the fuzzed in ***** tinter grass.

                                                       i o and uncurling stiffly went like the shoots off of roses: topaz
                                                       i went red like the bitten ******
                                                       of girl tingling
                                                       unchastely
                                                      ­ snowless hips
                                                       )without WNTR which
                                                        sof­t of hard
                                                        and hard of itch
                                                        itch­
                                                        and     ­                     itch
                                       ­                (in WNTR to please
                                                        re­move me my health
                                                        an­d barely skin me
                                                        a foal tree

                                                           ­                      untwitching

.































































­













     "You might be a vegan, but I swear your skin is milk poured into the careful shape of your body."


























































­

























.

o how easily your lips become me,
the burning crimp
of urging kiss,

to depart myself
and wander amongst
thy body holy and vile ridiculous winsome trivial spectacular,

(arm and thigh)
whose sweep and gait is love
made ready for tongue
to impart slowly tenacious,

whose comely hair is course tender difficulty splendrous,

whose moments are singeing exactly innumerably few
(and never enough)


who i have longed for in deepest valleys of untouching cruelty
(to cup thy whole mouth
in my mouth,
to carry it forward
thy kiss a burning standard

into inkset darkest darkness of night



that i might walk without stumbling;





that i might see           )