it feels the each,
the mouth into which
sun crawls
moon sings
and trees

suddenly bluster
with and with.

a lark
a poppy
and the breaking

of darkness before

a fist swollen of
red newness to be:


(to be hard ; to be naked ; to be great)

not to live is normal
more normal than to live is
to eat and sleep too late
on saturday mornings
or to meet with cloven
skin the bare rawness
of your chest .




more normal than to is,
is to is not wasn't never was and
won't be ever more than
the gesture of your thighs
threaded with moonlight
on sweaten summer eves.

and to because
i assert it is more normal
than to kiss to with lips
,the dirt, i

my hands and body
would like to unusually be

in your breath and body's lee.

drink dreams
rushing with flowers

(somewhere


alone

and with gin   ) carefully

intercoursing with females
and speaks coursing with
hares a lark and suddenly

it is winter

(into who barely he fits himself)

a radian–and spring.

i love to die because
i love to kiss
in you where

(death sleeps)

wide and white and waiting

to kiss me

because but i
love to kiss you into
which sleeps summer and dying

(who autumn shall meet–dying)

cannot go but goes
anyway (the tacit
ripple of sublime time)

from whence the corded
bullet of your mouth
screams chocking with
poppies and crocuses

streams a dark and fathomless lips—

(i would like to part.i would like to enter)

darling
i
Love You

some field full of grass
grass leaping
and spits from the
soil

          (or)

which hurts to least
to see and fold
within sight

the curt splinter
of girl hips and
wider than death

they eat the spring
into which becomes
Summer by

the scrape and spark
of their tuff
tinder.

your mouth is nice.

it spills

(deepeasy)

over the evening

and feels as

moonjerked nightjabbed

with wide dust of

warm fingers.


its curt;
its cut

of sunspear

drinksleeping

and magic hurt

pulls over kiss

pushes through

starsabled and winged

dreaming of nightfist.


it does the moon thing
and curls with
bright rushes
of lip.

its splendor is cool mute
and filled with
lavender.

c'est;
c'est saison;
c'est saison du veux.

and where it sleeps,
my mouth sleeps too.

"because those who worship weakness should never be surprised they serve those who do not."