elle n'est pas one hell
of an elle in does
brightly chafe with
dower stocking removal
hastily into thigh as thigh
does improbably hairless
Glide into petite grande
pink pretty pinched heaping
of dryless ****** helping
of **** help needing

A quick drizzle of angles that
unsuddenly with immortal pairing
bare the rude stem of Spring–

which cannot unbarley but to shreak
the tiniest whisper of "please into my
house enter the deepest blooming
of red red red steam   "

being i just could only
that at
the naked perfume
of her
seeping incessantly laughter
but to boom as wide and cloyingly
drunk with open health

as God had said
making the world
by one word: she

said not one word
(making my world)
but two,

               "**** me"

sheet crumpled not
deeply thrashing
with life as a last night did
dead now dreaming
as dreaming sheets oftenly
boy with toy like
fantasies of apart joints
socketed into unsleeping
hips in the darkest of
night's dreamless deepening

sits some thick blushed fitting thighs
around softly become
of mouth and lips

bump
bump
lips
bump

sits
bump
bump
sitting

***** curled
Summer
salt summer
fitting

petals in
doused
quickness
of aching
to part

on stem
on pistil

groans
groaning

the little house
of your hips

(where my mouth lives

in body whose white lectern
turns
fragrantly to
dust

, i will carve

a notch deep
into your *******
snow fingers and
dove hands of
love cruelly which
i cannot unmake
my lips for                              .

the not body of Spring feels like
girlhood stroked fur purring
wet between April and May
slicked rain of coming flowers:

                   Not easy
                   Not hard
                   nor needing

for kneadfuly clutch of loosed steam
who makes tearfully joy by within
forests loops of the curling stuff
her own not body

by warmth
by wet
decay of young
foals white petals parting showers of chaste rain and the

tight
tight
tight

emulsion of pushing through
the supple cloud of morning:

                    SUN,

"Did I forget dying?"

asked who

hung with livery
of silver youth spun
by rouge turning
of night into day                                    ". Perhaps
                                                                                    "

or because suddenly
remembered summer
was sluiced in body

of hot water around
slim ankles–the opening

of every small vein–
rushing to mix with
motes of dying laughter

the very petite and
fragile model of thy self                        " one day when
                                                                     the incorrigible
                                                                     rough noose of
                                                                     Spring has tightened
                                                                     about every gold
                                                                     trimmed loose laden
                                                                     goosenecked whiskey
                                                                     minute of kiss *******
                                                                     between wide thighs
                                                                     tear tumbling and
                                                                     blubber wonderful
                                                                     life shall with death
                                                                     's vacant fingers make
                                                                      a flower of thy body
                                                                      renewed at the lips
                                                                      of thy grave every
                                                                      morning pearled
                                                                      in dew
                                                                                                         "

i am your body,


my hands the

dark hour between

shook cords of blinding day
                                                  ;

cursed
     /
coursing

of curved
hours distilled
          .distinctly

***** heaving
of

tight aroma .  Atoms,

hither thither
bump pumping

white into white hips

fissured

at the breach of

          .

(to you my love to feel
wishing within throat
to fold my most unfolding

into you
the hands
my body (yourbody)

tween shook cords

of blinding day