Walk the earth
Tickle bones
The perfect place
To call your home

Crumpled dirt
On my sheets
Pulling out
My endless teeth

Laying in a field of wheat
Reach my hand
To **** the ****

Starry heavens
Far away
Never leaving
Never stay

Face down
In ***** dirt
Breath the dust
**** the hurt

i want to gaze upon
you with my
artificial i

and capture
your shattered
perfection in this:
a digital whisper
to smear over
electric
walls so others
may bask
in your frail
glory

(my sweet nothing
dance before this
lens)

my artificial eye

what beautifications
can i bestow
on this : thy earthly
sepulcher;
it does not already
contain

?

your gentle shoulders
curve a lovely arc
as my greedy tongue
bends on collared bone
enshrined in
this
your most unbearably
perfection
i call
you paint my
face with
lilting fingertips

there are so many me's
which shall
i
ware
today

(?)

huh
thathee
this thy
did cry
a sunny night

but unsure
winds boastful
fibers laid a threadbare
cavity open
to
shivering window pain
laced
withs
courageous dapples
of color

i should not
but have

exposed:
i lay
thus
to some monster
nestled in
secret seclusion

amongst the loose weave of friskilating scents
and a nostril not meant
to see sweet aromas

t
rickletri
ckletric
kletrick
letrickl
etricklet
r i
c
  k
l
e
very cognitive
s
  t
    r
   e
a
   m
runs in rivulets
into her
moist
crevices from
the extracting of
my sanity
in splintered whole
partiality

l                   a                         y
your
hands on that
stiff minute
full with (brimming sensuality
a void of reason
opens in me my i
i beg her)

voiceless current: moan a gossamer delicate

l
et-me
unsheathe thisss(my SELF)
and s  h   o   w
you the nicks in
its
scripture

did the sun visit the cold shores of some daughters shimmering eyelids that held her in such perfect contempt.

O, sweet child your arrogance is the flavor of god.

(but shall not those fearful minutes
;bleeding from times slashed wrist;
splashing hot seconds over a dusty yellow)

that dangerous womb of light
birthed a frigid nothing
as my fingers slip on my buttons
trying to shield my pink
edifice from chastising
breezes briskly beating
a lonely melody
on the loose weave
of times
everflowing
river riven
plait

protect thee
thy woolen
encumbrance
is
an article

this was how
i
liked her best:

pallid roots
spread
some soft wet
in their twain
drawing
an oral sepulcher
to dine
on hertenderleaves

(i bent my lips
in grinning countenance
at
that infliction
i did
visit upon              a
lovely sundrenched
tree)

cometogether
fal
la

p

a


r





t

what hands
these are

(are these

hands

) ?

what hands are these?

(on tainted wrists
dripping hot melodies
over her pallid shell;
i put my lips to its
understanding but
the

flavor: lick lick lick lap

like

i

do

)

thus

i see i
seeing i
seeing me
my sight sees my me
being me sighting in on i

huh
sure
what

_rapture(

every tinyenormous
partial whole
explored
the dawns tide
as night's
fornication(with day)
made a crimson
babe
screaming a vermilion
puddle on
my perception
of
this

so

lovely

a

this thing
it did:
hid
in that
penumbra
pooling
'round
cognitive
conjugations
of
postulatio­ns
peaking
above m(i)
unconscious

i tried to lift
its heavy
concept
but
synaptic
sinew
frayed
on its serrated
flavor
severing realities
from
actualities

the hands all over me

the hands all over me

iwishtheywereyours

the hands all over me

sordid silhouette
sing sigh's
savage  grace
tongues akimbo

a pink laughter booms over silent cloudy grays

(the day's sister
was all the same
differently purple
in that way which
so is the night)

in such was the straight little pickets
onebyonebyonebyonebyone
marching in oscillating
still



-ness

i need:

you
are
what

when me
and this

moment
reach(singularity)my
heart will
sing
with
joy

There is a flavor in the air. It is a taste of the mundane. It pervades the senses.
Dripping down the throat. Coating the eyes. Lost though it is in the seemingly endless
ambiguous struggles of humanity there is no light for with which to guide it. It is
copper. Gold. Steel. Salamander. It takes nothing but gives all. In it's place is the
truth of the matter. But the matter itself is the unknown. Drug through the cornucopia of
texture the thing is lost amidst the rubble of thought. Cracked on the rocks of reality
still it flounders. The otherwise intricate handles with which we grasp are beholden to no
man. Though this does not exclude the aforementioned. A winding stair. A hateful glare.
Emotionless. Drugged. In the eclipsing of the grandeur the solace of a thousand remains.

when

ithink

on that idea
that is
me

i

question its
validity

i watch
vaporous uncoilings
elegantly exit
my oral
lungs breaking
the winds
soft grimace
as every second
bifurcates over
the striding grandeur
of that shining moment
when your ruby
lips shimmer
their electric
whisper over my
fleshy little
pink pushings

hot to the touch
like
glowing metal

little bikes
with
tiny pedals

i'll smell your rose
but
eat the petals

shimmershimmerglimmer
at the edge of darkness
flickers little flecks
of gold

i try to r  e  a  c  h
my hand to touch the
impossibility possibly
just there
on the other side
of they*

these elusive
little
golden
flakes

just

at

darkness

e

d

g

e

enormously tiny
(amorphous)
white idea

you sat

in Cerulean
comfort
holding ephemeral
puffy-ness

wield your cottony skin

hey you
(soft idea)

cometome

touch m(eye) notions

hey i
don't be a scared me
(she wants you)
so
thus
giveth her thy

i'm i am i'm am an am
yours

;be
gentle












please

hands dipped
in violent honey
deli v e r
sweet
pain
glistening with
semitransparent
golden sticky childs

my i
listens t( 2)o
the night
whisper
w
hisper
w his per

wh is
perwhisperwhisperwhisperwhisperwhisper w
h is
p[
e






r]

?
this dawn was a
laughing she
s
p
i
ll
in
-
g
staccato chromatic cacophony on
blind tissue

(erasure of inky displacement
speaks of erroneous discrimination)

happy her make crimson vibrations

casting off her melancholic  i

murderous; oNyX;(befeathered)puddle
po
poo
pool
pools
poools
pooling
on celadonian
plateau gather 'bout
huskish shells bleeding chlorophyllic residue

obsidian beaks pluck/pierce/penetrate
earthy skin
searching for
edible squirming analogies

wielding the loathsome oral club
of (kawing) that
kawing chorus
beating on my
perceptual walls

";".

i

i'd

like to (touch)

I i'd like to get 2 get (you)

i would, i,'d like to (touch);(you)

to k(no)w you
in a cotton land

white ground
white sky
strange
l-a-n-d-

you took me there and tore out my nos
but it's ok
i wasn't gonna
use
them
any
way

her
salient angles
protrude p
le
asa

nt
-ly

beckoning
my heed
to gather 'bout
their curving
lush

the day did weep and thus i bent my lips to its ear, whispering, "why do you cry so?" through crystal drips it chokes out, "because though i am born each morning i die each night. in infinite resurrection i am trapped. thus i never truly live" to this, i, having no reply, sat and cogitated

an i said
to this day,
"unsheathe yourself of this gray raiment and shed your glory upon my skin,"
alas
the sky's azure lips
remain in that state
we call:

silent

how do i explain this?
well, trying, i say
this: it is hard not to let my inner self  breach the skin of my outer self

thus revealing some of those things i would rather not show

let let let
me be
be
b
e(perfectly)
abstract:

if you understand
thinking thusly
you
shall never
do
sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo­oooo

corpulent confused corruption did deceive every vacant stare with horrendous precision loosing  strange muscles to oddly coil in deliquescent understanding; how ever this becoming became i shall not know for all my rigid conjecture; thus i surrender my accidental resemblance; especially : a visible sign of something invisible"

so did the metaphor roar

elegant hammer smash
(with succulent force)
this raiment of sanity
from
my shell

loosing that birdofsong
singing cursed verses
into untamed
ears

i i
try try
to show
you
my beautiful  blood

; fl
owing into sacred mouths
((they
make frosted gloves)
wrapped over prose)

but next to the shining symmetry of our hearts i know you will take me in your arms and love my notion with your perfect lips

pond
you are: so
quivering to my touch

a
nd

(when i put my fingers in your wet)
your damp skin

writhes

dripply wet
moonly sweat
upon
your breast-s
fingers met
mingled breath-s

t
e
a
r

t
ea
r

sad eye
do not d-
well

though deeply
wet

thoughts
on this:

you are beautiful

no know:
not know
yet,
know naught
and
know not
but
no naught
for
no knot

binds

wetly sunlight speaks
no voice no rhyme
from time 2 time
lost admits the rubble
but not so
{as they say}
for through thought though
they fought so
leaving knowing
breathing
slowing

said u
"what matter
this?"

not saying
showing

cleverly

i was

i am was
as we're not

but not

as could

having
you

but
noing
shall

i

(the queer countenance
of this reality
bears its incredulous
visage)

in me

(vexing my corpulent
vocabulary; trying:
i broke my words
on its unknowable)

Is

(but a sliver of its
Is is embedded
in the flesh of my mind
bearing with it a measure of its)

truth

a silver splinter in
nights obsidian epidermis
bled silver saliva
dripping over every edificial
outcropping of tangled limbs

times quiet muscles contract
in rhythmic response to
your quivering thighs
as sudored ******* convulse
eloquently

sharp gasps lash (at(
my damp) fabric

my cells scream)

with the scrabbling scratch of black painted nails

;

you                                    r
crimson; instrument
(beat
beneath) bone
i'd
like 2
call
its environs
my                                      n      e       w
home

eager fingers
itch
at soft
plying seams for some
gap
but calm
hands draw away
those ardent
tendrils

but peaking from just above denim veneer
lists a lacey edge
drinking a rapturous gaze
from my
i

you are a:
you
her
she
a
an
i
it

but, w
i
****
ng
;

i hope
(someday)
you might be a

mine

the dawn breathed
hollow reds
nuzzling luminous beads
lilting on her pink petals

her ruinous fingers
draw my rapture
from ever y
crease
in my vessel

she hotlittlewhispers:
"use your tongue"