i, night, hung about thy cheeks more splendored
beams crisper and wholly brisk with wind
than even winter could. i stroked about the
penultimate hour of your face the little and
stranger carelessly perfect lips of my face
and drinking so stilly the sky is abrupt
with normally clothed stars; **** and playfully
abundant. i lay my heart with thee and i am
increased. i lay hands with thee and i am
between the velour of your not-covered thighs
making, with you, an errant child like Demeter
and Poseidon (who hangs his restless skin upon
the nape of the coiled neon streets. hinted
at his edges just; the circlet of the bay, i wander
in thee night.)

sometimes i want to make love

sometimes i want to ****

I am not myself
nor were I; know a thing
this body's just fantasy
this mind but a dream

hello, today sun

       i

like you


                i
              
                     like the ample
                     pleasure
                     of your skin
                     i like it
                     and it likes
                     i

i often, longingly, of your striving pinkest
lips do eat by my own lips curling with
them into a neat pile of tremendous ***

i often, strivingly, long to eat, of your chests
pale basin, the apt fruit of your *******
i, longing, and strive with the savage
electric lash of thy fragrant throat

i dance and marvel at your feeling
my chest hands
                             i drink of them
and i'm etherised smoothly at
their hot rumple of my skin

and i you just can't barely

for thou art the dripping
rill of Cupid's apt *****

thou art, between darkness
and light, abruptly hung
with my flesh (from which
is sated thy lustful flowers
perfectly glistening petals
'neath me and groaning)

and my body knows
when it's with yours
a pleasure more
and pain less

it knows just how
delightfully draws
the better curves
of your sting heavy
*******

how is immaculate the
darling prism of thy
stomach               and
how pleasantly scrunches
it up in ecstatic pink
rimmed diminutive folds

and how the taste of
your sweat is like
honey more than
honey even is

shines tonight the particular pearls furiously star in eve's deepest *****
just youth and hinted whitest rawness stabbing the sharp air of frigid streets
(i won't walk with you. this is not my place. but i will see-- i will hear