darling(you don't know it)but i got a mouth
a mouth that you'd like, like it would like you
O, how it(you) would like it would make you

                          my mouth

like an Ocean, darling,
                                                an Ocean, darling,

scalloped in muscles alight, darling, tightening
and untightening, darling, my mouth would
make a Sea of you, darling, it would make you
gilt in writhing wafts of sweat, darling, it would
fleck you in the thickest lather of pleasure it would
('tween your coyest thighs)whip thee into a fervent
tumult, darling, you don't know it(but I got a mouth)

somewhere a boy(at last)in who darkness
uncoils
unfolds drips
down each bone
down each finger
            to each tip
            tingling
            crackles
            the teeming
            camber
            of a girl's
            waist feels
            like sweat
            tastes like tears
            wetness and molasses
            smeared mascara torn
            tights around brief ankles
            a skirt lifted and immaculate heaving cries

listen dead
                     is a lot like sleeping

in the earth
                     where there is not

life and there
                       is wormness

there is eated
                       a faint uncolour

a body
             a quiet
                          a bigness

'cause livings
                        finiter

but dead's
                   unfiniter

it's a nice long forever where you don't rise but you do you come out the earth in a trillion spears of grass
you come out as a dandelion and your heads a delicately flared puff of cottonlike earthbreath tousled
and fractures in the breeze, lilts, doesn't cease and goes making more life
                                                                                                                                       and
                                                                                                                                                  dead
                                                                                                                                             wasn't ever

like caught in your throat


           1
                    star

burns fiercely struggling
to be loosed
to fly 'pon the collected
***** of night
and to(amongst fair
complected morning)
meekly at first

            then

                      ROAR

imperceptibly delicate(from merest fissure
of night and day)in June
emerged                                          painfully
became              a

                                 butterfly

whose wings  a                               tempest
beat
         'pon
                   shoulder and brow
                                                           a precise

violent breath
silked in the leak of summer's yolk yellow
stickthickly
that lazily ate the skin of a flock of girls
giggling hard
                                                      satted on

the crumpled fold
                                                        of

                                                                            Lust

noosenice night come
come kindly
and ****** me
of normal
whim and wit night
purple easy
                       night crusted
                                  in casual
                                       Spring
                                       the delicate
                                       stiletto of thee
                                       paled tween rib
                                       and sinew
                                                           The
                                                           quick sliver
                                                           of the moon
                                                           which by affable
                                                           stupid violence
                                                           is a smiling cudgel
                                                                                                That
                                                                                                stumbles brilliantly into
                                                                                                my skin
                                                                                                where the prime magic
                                                                                                of fairies have also
                                                                                                been and split their
                                                                                                thighs
                                                                                                admitting
                                                                                                                      LIFE

there was a cat in Spring fuzz tangling
morning pallid
'tween paw
and whisker
                               there
                                                 was 2 girls

talking their
small sharp
                                                 voices

blundering
                                                 in sleepier

Spring morning
fuzz
                                        caught

                                                      'tween
                                                       tail
                                                       and claw
                                                       whose name was "bjorn"