and i say the sun is callous
for nothing ever shall be
so
beautiful
as the delicate fronds splayed unerringly
before my hands. and i do place my vestige
in its thrall and as it is i am nothing compared
to the softness of its belly. so lay inlaid with
rouge splendor and indelible.
beneath and
under and my tongue
is the sprouted clavicles
an orchard of pleasure in verdance
blazingly dim in the moon puddles
writhing the muscles of implacable sensation. go to the tiny hall
and whisper
with Venus. she is grace and smooth and the sea muttering
with the loose wind. fashioned from naked blood.
Jun 30, 2010
Jun 30, 2010 at 11:30 AM UTC
and i say the sun is callous
for nothing ever shall be
so
beautiful
as the delicate fronds splayed unerringly
before my hands. and i do place my vestige
in its thrall and as it is i am nothing compared
to the softness of its belly. so lay inlaid with
rouge splendor and indelible.
beneath and
under and my tongue
is the sprouted clavicles
an orchard of pleasure in verdance
blazingly dim in the moon puddles
writhing the muscles of implacable sensation. go to the tiny hall
and whisper
with Venus. she is grace and smooth and the sea muttering
with the loose wind. fashioned from naked blood.
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