"You've done a lot of terrible **** to me."


"Oh really, like what?"
















"Telling me you love me."

3 loves because
you are not one body
single hands or
two lips only;

you are(perhaps)

a multitude.

perhaps a gallon o
of incredulous which
i become by

each tremendous
drove of your hips
that eat like snow

my figure to become still.

more still than to live and that
i shall lay forever as a flake as like
to melt upon and be the new old soil
between each pressed sole of boys and girls
in love they make the curious racket

of life. i would like to make in you
before turns my hands to ash and
not even one of your bodies

can h(old

"Because nobody really loves anyone.

       We love the idea of the person.

                        The actual person

                                  just gets

                                     in the

                                       wa

                                        y

                                          ."

there is laughter a girl fills the naked silence with her shoulders through
the angled tress of her white flower (a rose that) whose mouth speak
saying to live through careless moments of hurt sunlight: SUMMER the
curling sigh of ******* **** fingers between where sleeps her sonnet and
her hair.

that winter kills a flower
(there is a song bird
                ) it  


loves(somewhere in the
darkness ) only

purer only fleeter with
(whose beak snares upon)
snowfingers pressed with              (silence)

white lips around
the thick pistil                                                    (and calls Spring)




                                              To Die

                                           (               )

"I want you to know: I never forgot."






                                               "I know."
                                                            ,
                                                            .

                                                            '







                                                            .

this new
the slim body of
thorough unbroken
tremors

seems


it

itseems

like as like
unseemly
coils of
brute laughter
the languid burst
after *******

and

serene pitches of
in the winter when
first grows
first fingers
into tense coldness
of taught muscles

the love fist

       (uncurling)

through stark air,

A rose.