where,honey &lemon
  is replacing the
flowersome air,where
the sea is not half
   as sugary as

this toothache way
   I find Myself in.

see,I want the some
-things,
        I want all the
  little somethings
but nothing & nothing
& nothing is what
   I,ve found.

is relief grown
in riverbeds,where   is
  content & her litter
of reminders that,'every
thing    will be   okay?

one of My
       little somethings
,to Me,which shows I am
okay, on board&sailing
           for utopia.

,  or perfect the word 'love'. I
have run my fingers through Her
   hair and only called it soft.

there is no bottled lightning
   or thunderous applause.
She deserves a wave, wonder;
   it all and even more.

& keyed it into Me. I let
the window's air in through;
a hot&breathy breeze.

I let Myself try on love's coat
to feel her systole. I let
the beat go through its arc,
touch electricity.

I let Myself get sick of love,
pyretic, come to be. I let
Myself to feel its warmth,
and now I feel its heat.

I let I let I let but not
ever in control. I let
myself in love with You,
and You have let Me go.

i finally saw two magpies
for the first time
                   since february
(they were resting on
                         a signpost
then, it was valentine's day)

i wrote 'happy valentine's j x'
     & imagined you florid
(it was calflove&sweet
       & it only grew stronger)

letters, dried flowers, poems
          i wrote for You
(We were kizmit,to be,
           i always wanted You)

i gave You everything i had
   ,all but kissing sense,
(i wish i did, your lips
    were all love ever meant)

i finally saw two magpies
  You have a love, i don't
but i have finally seen joy
        & You will see me float

yesterday My pin fell off,
        'radio heart'
it said,so yellow&bubbly.

I said it was a sign, I said
  My universe
is spinning me out&out into

a waltz & I cannot keep up.
     the music,
it's all a little too loud

& You move a little too fast,
             My dear.
You move a little too swift

& collapse into a twirling
     eidolon, falling
right through My fingers.

this love of fate is true

You, My chimera, were
          so woven into
      this rippling fabric
I wore as a man
  in love

& fate, She is more
than haute couture; She
   is a pair of jeans worn
& torn & patched up well.
         She is timeless in

living&walking, knowing
   I gave it all       to You.
My kizmit,   You gave Me
new    heartache, which
       I will plant, & reap

                            amor fati.

closed your eyes & I imagined
how You felt;  the itch of the sun,
the thirsty breeze & My sating gaze

You looked so beautiful  ,  then  ,
quenched by    love & wanting,
flowered&budding a new meaning
of what it is to just Be,so perfectly

reflection spits
off the road
like venom

(all this happened
under slurred
red murmur        )

vashti bunyan, i am rocked/
/fluting free to Her melody

You put the kiss in kismetly,
it is My reassurance of fate/
/destiny/She;loves always for
                                             Me,

arthur russell, falling in sea
soundscape//spacelike in 4D

I ask You,please,fall into Me
& pluck at my heart like a cello
Please,in C,fall into Love & Me

alive, that this hurt is good,
I am swept into waves of
cleansing, fragrant blood.

it is the nature of living
on the knife's always edge,
& it is here I mitose;
one life lived, one hedged.

I chase risk like hot foxes
might chase a chaste rabbit,
I dig my teeth into chance
like the germs who inhabit

not wounds, more incisions,
My purposeful reminders
that I am alive, hurt is good,
that I'll bleed until I find Her.

"no overthinking",what about
       understanding
the echoing pines of this hill
                             side landing?

We are a picnic,My Love,of
flowers&leaves,,    We taste
of green heaven   through
    tongues   &   teeth;

it is always You, though
       always the same
dream of Us,         in Love,      
         again & again

I am not overthinking,thinking
   of We,      I believe in
spring romance, in
              growing pinetrees

let us return to nature,    not
   think with Our head,  choose
Your heart,use Love,
come & lie      in the flowerbed

where You danced, it was
not on the     doorsteps
of this

            space
    
                        We occupy,
but on the lowhum,glowing
grass of somewhere far
  more real...

ethereal,the walls harp
in operatic glee,
                            the angels
walk like You & twirl
                     & twirl
                  & twirl
so they are dizzy with Love

& they fall, to line the floor
                          for You

,                 like a lantern;
She had no answer for
You.           I understand
the glowbugs & fireflies
,they fill the fields around
Your home,        but You
are crystal clear to Me.

My hands are cracked,dry
for a gift. hold Them & see
there is nothing beneath
Us at all.   there is no push
or permission to fall;
You step,              & hope,
             & I will be there,

swimming in the creek of
all We are yet to happen.
     I raised a Prayer,untied
& spoken,     to a balloon;
She will drift into power
lines,She will
             buckle your day.

(wood pigeon,cooing Me
  its therapy                      )

You are a little bow,tied
around My fingerstems.

You fit there well, You &
a loveline, straight to Me.

wave,cresting

       ,only
      falling
       since,

it was always
  You,
      purrrring
seismic
             Love.

  Deep Blue,
i am unfound
in swimming
  You,

fingers,finding
   nothingbut
platonic
           seaweed,

feet,trying
     ,kickingthe
  crystal
                crust

of the beautiful
sky's waistline;
   her,gorgeous,
dipping
         membrane.

Love, i just want
    to kiss You
          ,& i am so
turbulent in
             waiting,
  God, i just want
          to die

I want
      the lungfuls of
Your       breath

I want
           the lucidity
Your laugh rings

I want
         to nestle in
                   between
Your smile lines,             
         
                           never
                              ever
     leaving   the  even
                                ing

are like                the dirt
    to Me;
                   I will scrunch
You up                    & fold
You in between my toes

   walk around,hip sway
to the true beat of Love,,,

You,are like the dirt to me

rollback into the dim redness
that (you've been here
                                     before)
is breaking over blackness
            ,      your outcrop spine
realises      splitting starriness;
it is andromeda.            
           She is the most painful
constellation,a cluster hot
                     of nerve endings
into dizzy   relativity,relapse
that (you are yet to
                                    become)
   We are all so still.
                        i am all but still,

everything is spinning
                               so perfectly

the   kind that *****
the    breath   out of
the           highstreet

the kind of
     sicktothestomach
nothingnessforvalue
thingyouveevereaten

this year, it has been
ten years long. thatis
no witticism,now (if i
have counted every1
****** second that
has tugged my wrist
like a toddler/ticking
timebomb/ then it is
twenty thirty five). i
am  falling  apart  at
the ******* seams.
we're all moving fun-
ny,     like sense has
fermented &   i have
fallen,    scraped my
knee           on     the
c  h   o   i    c    e s    t
p    a     r   q    u   e t
floor     there           is

i paid nine pound for
a burger and all i got
was this stupid poem

this air is dry;  summerful
yellow turned dehydrated ,
kind            of           orange ,
slurring           like an evening
      into drier hands.    same
ones that ran
                 over
       my beautiful ribs. beautiful
ly giftwrapped,edges folded neat.

i really am so very neat.

(i miss the flowers)

  the rock you gave me
(/magpie/, so penguinly
                beautiful)
rolls around my sum
                -mertime fist;

it is old,has stories of Love,
& still,maybe,is volcanic on.

step into a name
like Urs           leaves
my feet so pale&dusty

;;;not for lack of
richness     ,,,no!

        U
        hang
        like
        a
        tho­ught
        bubble

under moon (& her
             gracious mind)
,   a real.tangible.place
&         so        are         U

    We could live in
           la mestra
(how ever U would like
           to spell it...)
Urs  is  the  only  name
     that            matters
             to   me

,cool,       into water
  like socks; whirlpools
splash is more than  that.
  temporarily    something
              from        ­ nothing
  n  isn't that sooooo
         gorgeous ???

                                     no,so
tragically      temporary.

i need to be

(infact  i crave)  

              away
    with the fae.

none of this feels
quite     so samely
           ;
the charming lilt
of a     hotreddot

     crystal/eyeses
,my throat like
       cotton wool.

i need to be
music;       almost
like how    i ammm
myyyyy  poetryyyy,

n      i        don't  
   knowww     howww.

She is
        so wonderful.
  it is some thing
of a    fantasy in
how She flows;

(so    non-linear
  (like her skirthem
is time
  (in a swift
   & graceful bow)))

She is static
     ,butmobile, &spinning
rain in Her hands;
   She is knitting droplets
        & folding waves ,

         knowing my
lips are soft,undefended
                .irarelylookup.
     yit She is there
  & there She always was

just in touching,grazing
at the edge of likelihood.
  Her name is Hope
and She is such
a spectacle.

(a hatless boy/a cowless gunslinger)
maroon about the ****** pond.
                           selfsuck-
kingly,
spurless boot drags nameless nothings
like a bridal train
                              (so promised You are)...
the dust lies though. perchance
                          the rockylike
grit in my throat has found the
                          perfect home

(only eight weeks later)

re enveloped,(no)O(bow)
so folded hemispherically;

flaking,    crumbing,    Love.
it is buoyant in its optimism

& kisses ideas      of sinking
Us,We are Love's ocean floor.

.nota.bene.
(it is filled with)
(jam & sugar    )

beginning.
She tilts barefoot on
                                     eve of
                                     evening
,lilting,  a pacific hypo
       thetical excerpt on

"
why(iam)here &
what(wedo)next
"

end.
it is something
of a copper wire;
    vitality.         in
the longer you lap
your legs in its terra   cotta
                                       ,the more
                                        exacting
(stringentl­ysinuous)   the scar

.post.script.
a sense of
where i amnt
more than
i plant my
ankles like
two little
orange
trees.

it has this      halic aura;
the vanity of an electric fence.
it has this vanity of cauze.

it is tall.          tall & nosy.
it is toes up nose in my window.
it is evaluating in its warmth.

so tuneless,     thankfully.
**** tasting & tuneless
& shining.    almost kingly,

Your bluriness.
You do not cast
          a shadow.

it is honest in its opalescence.
my love listens
                        to the rising tide
                        &  the ebb&flow
my love buries itself in green
                               -bottle sand.

You, with your
                           searching
                           fingers
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
, You are missing
from Me.

"i really like you" is not all it is,
more     bellyful&hearty in its way.
so 'love' is a scary thing to call it,
no? i think Love is kindly&honest.
the 'jordiness' of it all; You are like
music i will never hear, or fashion
  i will never wear. You, always
                                         'not quite'.

yet You are hot, notcold, & Love is tall
'the jordiness of it all' is newness
& i believe We are not over yet ...
           so silly;call me in love & crazy.
You are beautiful,sweet& notyetmine,
You are,everything,but mine. as You are
in Love with him, I am in Love with You.

is a slender beauty. the
    sideways stance of
'i hope it does not
                     touch me'
(it does,though). love,
with its perfect
               nail beds &
finger knuckles.
   She will reach you
      all the same.

there is a fatness to it,
too;    
    a lying roundness
who wills She/will not cut
you. She is scarletred &
  lives in you;She is
  who you call 'living'.

reservoiry in its
volume,
               fill my lungs
time&time over. fill
  every saucer,gilded
&unstolen, replace my
air with it. She does
   not breath colourless,
but has the flow
                  of water.

in the word,'love' is
the recurring curl of
love,
&love
&love
again.
            She is the end
             & everywhere,
if i could only see Her.

the smelting eye
   of the pale morning
would close in a
   smile;inhale
the daylight between
     each fighting giggle

embrace the caring air
        of reading! take note
  of each of my bleeding
words & palate them
to taste      the true meaning
   of how i love You

every letter belongs,is Yours.
every poem i have
                 laid down to rest
is Yours&Yours forever;
   if only (the sky still glows)
               (You still read them)

this pissedup drawl of an evening
was    just that;
                       stumbling           through
                            time&nausea
as Someone,i could only cry.

high & notquite
                         dry,I
slipped into our music like silk
                                          in sleeves
& think about all the pretty notes i
left you.    think about your hand
                                         on my knee
                  (that one time,"accidentally")

so in sleep as life,
       in my dream i dreamt of kissing You.
in Your,flushing gleam, & weaving voice
i dreamt of Your dream,
               of how You
                   want me
                   holding You.

of Me, i hope
    the sagging moon
         & her tired hands
   fall on Your shoulders
to wash in how I see You

i hope
  the delicate dried
           flower
     & her springly laugh
  realises You love Me

i hope
    the singing magpie
& his warbling tone
     echoes the songs
  in which I played You

i think
     i hope You hope
           i Am

mind.          like a
      twirling,sweeping breeze,
We would be
    swanning up the coastline
    of some
         sweet&birdsung
                       place

(eating up candlelight,
    stalking halated joy,
walking the long walk,
talking of how We love

under such
         a giggling evening)

if i could sway Your
mind.                 like a
             flowing wave dips
             the coral,
He would hold His luck
         like a clamshell,dashed
         upon His rocks of fault
& left to saltly dissolve in sea

(Pearlescently, You
may roll around my
fingers.  come alive
under my jolting/
                   lectric
touch & realise my
riveting certainty)

if i could sway Your
mind.       like a
    flourished page turning,
         You would read more
    than
just the words I write

(lungfuls of effervescent love,
exhale,eye it melt across the sky
& drip down Your shoulders,
play the magpies kizmit tune)

if I could sway Your
mind like a tree,
You would fall into love
                                   &Me

swishes Her skirthem
in a swift
        and graceful bow
           
    &
  a knowing glance
  (the flushed cheeks
   and kissing eyes)
flashes like
                      sparking
                      end of lip
                      
                        striking
                      end of lip

wave, to wonderful swirling
bluegreen cool

apex. acme. precipice of
Us; the cresting belief in
                         'We are to be'

rolls&folds me out
    to float - the polar verse
of promise in' shoes

so cymbal crash on back
of beat. the symphony aqua!
              acquiesce His sin

stroke the little seawater death.
all things in time return to wave.

the un bridled un
                         buttoning
  of sense
               ...
                (          a     pointless,whipping
                                             towel of wind)
                                                        ...­
& the sylphic roots
           ,whom in their
fishbowl head.
      their endless lung

                       un dressed You
         ....
                               (static RINGing
                                electric moan)
                                          ...
& Your greenhillmounds
                 trembled
          greener,became
...
(this              wracked                 incessant
          waltzing whistle.    )
                                                ...­
                       a poolofpunch. the
                       cellulose We once dug
                       our fleshly little Thumbs into
                ...
                   (a two-hundred mile
                                      rockfall splash)
                                                         ...
                       stained like
                        the idea of heaven

  &myshirttoo                             deliquesced
     diffused                               &liquified
  
We covered              Our Earthly Body
                 in organic spilling mess &
drank

(ffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff­)

                 Us                        like we ******.

the airsick scarf of
                                          /well,nothing/
snakes down My back
as
a familiar hand       might
a pale&flexing spine

enticing'er
               swimming assembly
                     of corpuscles
(&theveneratingrubsofsternum)

ha! no! relinquish the
   cold.     &
   metallic     sting

to Her,so
  svelte,the
succuba
  of chance

to Her,then,
  the sketch of
one schimera

unrhyming in the jilty way                      i am
never stepping how You weave flowersome

(chalky Moon she can not finger into
/liquid Sun her molten gold    will,dryup)
the ground,
   each flowersome heel You softsoap
into charming new Somethings,
                                              lifely green

no setting - kinda jellylike - the eve
will forges on in her shimmery way
(& birdsong is similarly shimmery)
lasting forever like lifetime of bees
,hopefully,
                  or preserved in petalwrap
(& it is You   giving the time its tick)

You are in rhyming with the Universe
so hum in the       softly folds of music.

i will weigh
each plasticky
edge
          of
               love

'gainst each soft hand
  & feel their flow
riding finger grooves

find an ego-shaped
              box
(round with       atomic
         what/whereness)
& keep there

wanting More with
      /Her

wanting Such with
      others

so It spills
                       like
honeymilk& sweetness
eyes  (,dilating,)   me

diluting form & fuzzing
hard&fast careening
joy.              in     motion
              &iam     sick

is it newness of This?
is it secret       fizzing
Desire, You, Me for Me

the open more of
    waiting,     almost
eye-watering yawn

& his hotwet breath.
oh   His hot breath
brothe new day,

suckling     oily     fingers
turning page page after page
just to read. ahead

there is pleasure...in the
wait    ******* stretch of
interlacing muscly almosts

nothings nows ending
tensing tingling when