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PK Wakefield Oct 2013
this you who by shall does
(stars moon sting buzz)

each and each

the wind night spangles of

climb and climb

to softest velvet's supple cuff
(dreams of aching's arch'd slough)


'pon the plain of ardent fantasy
(drink swoon sun sea


                                                     )
PK Wakefield Oct 2013
when such love as roses have been
in the feet mountains
does and stags went together

up the rain and sun lashed hills
to walk amongst the mile of bulbs

and pluck from them their stems
and make with them their bodies.
PK Wakefield Oct 2013
.































































­                                         of
                                      loves

                 ­                  we've had


                     remembering is too difficult


                                    we would

                                       rather

                                       forget


















































.
PK Wakefield Oct 2013
Skin, the
girl you're
in. sleepsso

furiously amongst
the roots of chaste flowers

i twould
(to loose by touches febrile)
the flock; your gabled arch

unroost so mightily
tempests even would swoon

(and sodden every desert parched)
PK Wakefield Oct 2013
oh the world
(smoothly electric)

which turns 'pon
a thread divisible

assumes such shapes magic
(hurling singly rotund)

to smash by impulsed fabric
with savagery so sublime

fists should
(uncurling)
turn from bruises


                                          into wine
PK Wakefield Oct 2013
dying's like
(hot between swift thighs)

a gush
of wires cloven

minglin'
(wit' fingers cloaked in)

the *** of youth's wet sublime
PK Wakefield Oct 2013
speak me young
the ***, your mouth
in clovers hot

transcending bond of mortal rot

('tsstupid your
   the mouth
   and swollowed
   tighly
   throat               )


lift, cleaving
petals of neatest night

carry to heaven(oh and

YES
when your hands
quickly
wig my
burning ******          )the( i'm

fist the
kitty
yer
smell very erectly  ) coffin


       'o mundane plight
( i'll push between yer stocks
         a
   *****
        like
      they
        'llpush
          a
      *****
    'tween the dirt
where yer'll sleepin'

              lay                   )
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