in autumn all light is
(more **** fragile drunken sleeping)
the earth
                         and leaner

                                               and leaner

rises uneasily in the morning stiff white
less

            and

                        and


                                       less


                                                    green(sproutsnone

                                           frost slightly

                                     instead

                             grows

                      just

                                   )climbing the death of night rib
                                     by
                                     rib
                                     by
                                     rib of sallow frigid air

                                     and in one enormous swallow:



                                        WHITE

)sensual shelter(
love house man
sc
    u   r
       r
    y
scurryscurryscurry
button up cloaks
drip into: streetlight splattered night
hope they don't see your
newly hot skin
as your swallowed by
inky mawed toothless

a colour what does spurt
t0 from the eglantine sprite
;an undarkness puddles about;
                                                          iknewthesummerand her lakes
of vibrant tousled marching hair
                  that giggled from her heaps
and groused with sweating men
                                        who liked the fashions of her flesh
      and the ponderance of shes daughters
wearing mostly skin
                      they flaunt to catch
(with velvet flagrant manacles           )
the ardor of passing boys
                                               them that march about
                                                hideously pedantic
                                                their carefully fastidious
                                                grooming hands
      they'd like to grip with
      ladies
       and wear them for the night

uncouthed, in the plain, in the pleasant, in the big upward outward (foreverandever) the sky. andl eap tu pt ot ouch the grotesque marvel: the sun; who's infinitely finite strands of lovely fingers briskly gallop on the smooth earth. a fine lady, he loves most, HER.,;';,.

my lady,my lady
when you come MY lady

        all

the skin of my scents brittle
and the nakedness of my soul
is alight in your smooth purity
(stand with me next to the neat
trees) alabaster leaves whispering
a
                        sudden

benediction to your delightful frame.
how? can you be my LADY? what god
blessed me with your careful drug.
                      
                                                        olive
heaven: i love you love me. loving your
                                                     precious

my lady hither coming come hither my lady O,
my lady you breathe so. marry my veins with your
rich blood and take my apprehensions. if an oblivion greets my
crystal smile on the morrow if you were by the side of me
i would welcome it grinning like a fool.

who art thou?afraid of death
a blush of corpses figment children.
cadaver smile clean teeth toothy grin
brilliant dim. what a cool darkness;
alabaster skin. skirts all aflutter. the promise of
sleep. in her arms. cold. and! marble and, stiff or
waiting. know it, the dirt precisely.piled.

an affront to waxy apathy. sallow lips. clutch my open oral. tongues mixing;

                                                             how
                      it
                                          is
just there
                                                                 whispering

                          and   meticulously granite straight up. some flowers
for it.
maybe??

wherefore are you mover    ?       (into unbriefest silence
                                                                                                )

and crisp eyes

                                  hard

                          glassy

                                      body's

                                   , because

                           strike gold 'tween each
                           finger paired over the
                           fragile morn'
                           ,                             a lot

                                                         is sick
                                                         pretty
                                                                  
                                         has night colour
                                                from its untimid
                                                          shoulders
                                                                          flayed

so why Stealer

                          girlsboys

           from kissing

                             ?

take immediately into notsavored
forever

                  could you say perhaps

                            why struck from

                        raw untidy
                        
                           LIFE

                       ,you

                                  Death

                             immutably

              filch
                                the pollen of young flowers
                                and the agile stem
                                                                  crush?

i want you to have com--

                   e

easily slowest faster
a tightly groomed lips

pleasantl--


                        y


of colossal tiny groaning
into deepening thighs
wanders deeper a
wand and dies (petitel--


                      y)





la mort

"hey, where are you" i walked amongst the sea to find you sleeping in a flower i"m outside, **** i missed" to stoke between your roots "i missed your text" a spark "ok" i felt when our lips were furred in kissing's "i'll see you in a minute" unhurtfullest punch

come, undie, and summer you're like
don't sleep (at night even) in moon light
rushes straight lengths of uncoloured
flowers pale at bite of big with, same as
cheeks, mouth that agile flutters with
gossamer limp of sugar's hue and glowing
waft, O
                Summer

like naked, me, like you, I, each parcel
each languor of thy dark eyes is a house
holding my strained dust of burns with
incessant girl needing powder to coat
every petal dusted in my unprim lewd
often slight grin that wants for unbroken
never felt barren pages of wordless girlskin
and dig a ******* into monthly blood

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                   )

there began almost a pale nothing
fleeced in nearly night
whose stomach
was vastly
muttering a strain
of ivory music
a tune
like
        unlike
                    winter

like summer more
slatterned
                   a various
sometimes
woman with
2
   apples for cheeks
   tanned rosy
at clattering
slop
        of my palm

and the wig
of barelySpring's
     cloying
     vagrant
                   smell

did i ever mounds of roses sweetly dew the air and petals of the sun

which eased upon my flesh in minute crimson gasps flitting from

his tousled brow?

the moon did. with unerring prim lips (puckering kissed sore muscles

) flocked and nuzzled up the thighs of night; marching straight up into

weightless heaving moments(whenIfumbledwiththelatchingcleatofyour

barely holding bra and between your ******* i laid one complete self

) my hands, which cuddle every furious cell of

the hours 4 and 20 past
when lays my skull in cotton glass
and lipless maws gasp and laugh
fleshless poesy of ice and gas
in erring billows frothing mass


            scowl(

when did i have myself always being myself have i always been?
completely another word. testing the lisp of god i am a lake uncertainly
a river snaking up to wetness lastly from greyness over all the smells
of pavement after the sun kissed it and rain now. also i have been a movie
i have been a story, a play, a theater of laughing actors have been me.
i have gusseted the strange impetuous strength of the singing soil
with my feet.

                        i was a year and a day. i was a moment. i was a life.
                         will you read this when i am spent and dreaming?
                            what is a day? a day is a year. a year is a day.
                             a life is a moment. i am a moment.

                                  smile

there will die in me nothing that has been you (though if even instantaneously you pressed against my eyes your face in some passing razor of a hot second flensed the air and flung across all silence your perfect stare back into me and it felt like SUMMER when you did and baby i'll never feel nor never kiss thy damson and crisp mirth lined lips)

                                                                                              buttherewilldieinmenothingthathasbeenyou

sing sighs softly
o' wind
i walk with you
and i regard myself
(and how shall i regard myself?)
am i you?
do i flick or flutter?

without lips your whispers
are like incessant draping
fibers looser than tighter.

o' wind then,
answer me
are you again me?
or perhaps am i you?
you are like seas
bashful and incredible
you fold and buckle
seamless reams of
fingerless hands
you are barely muscles
and whole glancing
infinities.

of me, is there some
quality, that is you?
or do i remain a
simple foible?
a little meekness?
or am i(like you almost)
terrible and beautiful?

(well you don't say
a thing so i'll do this:
i'll **** my timid notion
and my diminutive weak
body will die too and oceans
of laughter will pile a crisp
tumult from my breast and
i'll yoke darkness to my shoulders
and i'll cram out into fathomless
tiny space every inch and dash of me
and i'll be beautiful like you O' WIND
i'll be beautiful like your dreadful glorious heave)

stars that should falling
my hands extended
to catch you breaking
light will curl you
on them in a pile spent
of completely lilies
shall incredibly endow
by momentary
perfect invulnerable
love a crimson
dash of roses to again
lift thy supple
marvel up on heaven
shining so stars
that should falling don't
of anything fear
i'll with tenderest palm
eat the thorn that
would ***** thee and
spend my own
blood instead of thy
own conflagrated
O stars that should falling

i am nothing the dying of closeness to perform
jet

          arrayed in ****** o' quivering lightness

my own body softly

in her living muss to fay

mychestherchest

or to bleed a stuttering rill o' life stuff

where carefully is laid a garden o' sleeping children
(uncreated

                       unlivid


                                              faultless­)


lust yet incredibly to fill
crease and crevice burns
and all muscles
the tightness for hurting yearns,



                                           '




                                                           ­   .



                                            

           ­                           ,






                              ­                                                        '






 ­                                                   



                             .

if living's dying always. Then dying's always living
,or is dead and living never. Then is living even?

                     or was dead always?(who knows)i know.
                                                           ­                      life
                                                            ­                  is always.
                                                         ­          Never dies. hot
                                                         with cheeks rosey, flushed
                                       ,brimming with someone else's cheeks
                         equally rouged and with love veneered. Vulnerable
                  life absurdly lived. life spontaneous. Best with a cup of tea
              or in a loud drunk room with music, skin, and tattooed. Life always never dying life. Even if dead.

perfect light, LittleSoft: like) skin;
(hands talk
beat pale darkness
against rocky
edifice

like

ness

:i

i met you were small your lips and your body was so it
was so and it
was like i loved it to be
to be so and
i loved it

i you
the body me
it(baby)
feels more
when you(re)

your how mouth
i
wanted it
i want it

i stumble freshly it by
i madly wilt to kiss
its fluxing wondrous shoulder

your implike wafting
the keen dribble your
the heap of
parted sleeping

amongst
when i wander

(a dream becomes me)and baby please don't go

i love you the

iloveyoutheway

you the youthness
the inside tight the
hips your
and a sliver

i want to dash against
my teeth
i want (you)

i want you
please and don't

go baby

i think to starlight i am not strange
(but to men, maybe
              
                                    )because

the day's wife, night, is richly
a girl who wears a colour that
is not a colour but is better
because it has fast hair that
is so with sheen and it is
pearlescent its body is furred
in a trillion minute zeniths
on which i stack my feet
climbing into her mouth my
body becomes 1 of only
an infinite and though i
die i shall again be in her
not strange (a star)

                             but to men, maybe

i am for words entirely. i am crazy for them. i am naked in them. they are everywhere i am.
when i walk they are with me. when i am in sleep they are with me. they

grow from me and i am nourished on them. they sprout in all the atoms of me.
they are in all my sounds
and my unsounds and stillness and my motion. they are my plenty. they are

the grass of me. they are in every wrinkle of the morning. they are in every
wry splinter of the
afternoon. they are timid and hot. they are bold and cool. they are in

bending stems of forests in me. in the wind that whispers in the boughs
of the forests of me.
I fill them and am filled by them. we are for each other. and each other for.

some short spark
you seem hard
hot over your
microphone
wailing
a bigness
larger
than
the
very
pert
figure
you cut
nicely out
the quavering
small air of a basement
houseshow crowded tangle
of faces and ears on edge at
the electric stroke of your agile
pick(but even larger is the alone
cloying to every word you uncarefully
hammer into the strangled pocket of youth)
i would take it i would take your alone voice
and i'd put it with mine and together perhaps
we would be something like some might call Love

.                                                                ­                  



                                           ­                                           small



             ­                                                                 ­        start




                                               ­                                         through





           ­                                                                 ­             musicome




                                                    ­                                      come through








                                                 ­                                            all tenor and hue








                                                     ­                                          1 note shining








                                                 ­                                              1 note silver








                                                  ­                                              1 note clear


                                                         ­                                                                 ­as


                                                            ­                                               like
                                            
                                                          
     ­                                             
                                                                ­              water

                          

                ­                        come



a fury of twinkling and sound
pushing aside hotsweetness
pierce by sturdy breath the night
and come easy of cheek velvet
(soft as                             neat as)

emerging from thy breast a spangle
(a sprig

                   raw
                                            
                                              in    heat)

which­, though sleeping, wants of
gushing lather (SPRING) to leap
the frailing prism of the human lips

               A song
               more frail
               more dying
               even than

are you what.
((i think you are)?



             the body).


i think
you are
(which is
just slightly rotund

just

easily weak.

fit betweeen
your years)

long and
barely skinny

of arms. O

and you are

what
(i think)
you are?what?

(you are the rushing
keenly that joins
vein and soul; singing
)
You are.
and what
you are

is

vertically serene wonderfully pleasant

falling.

A white worm rests in the netting of

      our

hips. silk weaver weaving woven strands
loose strings. fray the forever faceless groan
enunciated in pleasure giddy writhing.

    little      goddess     you     are      like     a      song:

playing in the empty void to singe my cusp and draw
my stupid fingers to dumbly rumble over your ***.

a she so pearled sweaty
sensual nodes gleaming
dark. i take a measure of
your effortless laughter
and drink till my mind
bursts bubbling onto the
coffee tingle cold heat bridge
erected over the electric notch
of your fur stroke. do
                                            i
                                              do
         well

                                        by

        you?

the body you are is beautiful so
(erectly

                rushing)


and stings
'pon my lips a song

furred in girlness
it sings
so

and so
beautifully it

i


by it

burn

to leap freshly
mortal care
and my immortal soul:

                                                 bare

what is if (does the who why) and?

me perhaps you perhaps the trees
(and thousands of them(i have seen)
and thousands more await
each day as grass of us
belched of cloven stuff foil'd
'bout the neatness of gravestones)

there is a garden
and i have been amongst who
the stems of it sleeps girls
in their skin awake;

in their skinny awake
on unsure knees
ushering

boysandgirls

to and fro

toandfro boys and girls

go into each other their lips and out comes the Earth.

stand tall stupid arbor meats
peacefully deadened pursuit
of apathy grandly posited
a smooth unmarking
the soil goes
plunk",

come hearts 2

                             softly

                                          


                       2



                                       hearts


             splayed of


                                            ribs



        ­                   twained



                 of breast




                                             2




                        hearts




             in2(1

.































































­



                                     "Hurt me."




























































­












.

every noteless music of this world is a song
exploding fracas in my smallest body lifting
burdened wings broken to stars falling 1x1
into my eye; sort of like the warmest rock
of green bluely visits all of me every days
it falls rising to up under my feet aloft it
i swallow winds breathtakingly sounds of
god touching all my atoms with his cooler
fingers  strumming over the strings of each
incredible momentous tedium when i am
doing the dishes in the frailing hammer of
Summer's heat gorgeously nuzzling the lilies
popping up from the richness deeply soil
in the flower bed right next to the porch
droops amazingly the tiredest earth

how so RED petals
you so rose you so
stemmed unthorned
pricking sturdy moisture

i can't help from you
the distillation of an
instant released
incredibly
(and i can't not huddle my mouth
eternally in your cavern over
me the very small gape
of your sugar                                    )

where i am muscles more
and nerves better
bones completely
shouting (i love you when you sit next to the sun and it tires in the impossible effort of your skin
                  its entire and complete self in one shining gulp it dies behind a capped white mountain
                  and i make the Night jealous with my and my running chaff furiously smarting on your
                  rain stabbed 2 times with our bodies in its sudden hands all over us and we gallop, panting
         ,        into the ***** of my car in the parking lot of the park where we just made love under a tree
                  and you smell like every second of pleasure the earth has tasted made skinny hips and legs
                  and arms and shoulders and thighs. my scar; i,d cut you into me again and again and again
a
n
d      

again
                  and again
                                         and ,
                                                  '
                                               ,
                                                     '      ,
                                             '
                                                      '              '
                                        .
                                                           ,
                              .                             '                    ,

,
                                                   '                                                           .

A
                                                               ­        heart is where its
                                                             ­          gaggle of appropriate nerves
                                                          ­             tingle singing nerves
                                                          ­             single teeming nerves
                                                          ­             a tumult of aching skin
                                                            ­           towers correctly sublime
                                                         ­              a balmy twinge of evenings
                                                        ­               who curl with clearest scent
                                                           ­            about the firmer freshly body
                                                            ­           of the thighs quaking totally
                                                         ­              (a face that twists heroically
                                                      ­                  churns adroitly
                                                        ­                in adoring pleasure
                                                                ­        wreaking fragile sturdy
                                                          ­              crescents
                                         ­                               limping on the hotting
                                                         ­               chalice of her febrile
                                                         ­               brink. she totters just almost
                                                          ­              at it. right at it fiercely.
                                                       ­                 her flush groaning
                                                        ­                her garden parting
                                                         ­               ),i flay the difficult ugly
                                                            ­           that wears on her this
                                                            ­           common uncanny second
                                                          ­             i turn her sorely into naked
                                                           ­            flavored robes writhing
                                                        ­               between her thrashing together
                                                        ­               i stab her forever giddy
                                                           ­            my placid crashing”

youth lived harder passing into unyouth
your hips something nice are full and easy

(they are curving

they have docile sleeping entering


they are wide have thickness firmly steep

                                                                          )

like them better apart and better doused
in my kiss agile slanting heaps of love
and hips,baby,they are some kind of
tiny perfect entering curve of sleep
me and please come into (you like
to pull me out and)

a dancing shadow widely spectered an obtuse blot 'pon bedroomed wall. or slightly also melancholy: it's rigided amorphousness stank of hollow

.































































­














                                                  ­                         Tell me I'm a ****.



























































­














.

i think you,
when the world
(easy with roses)
speaks a hymn
like the mute
crushing of
parted night,
will rise beyond your body
to sing with fierce grace
your hands as lips to speak;
such love (even the roots
of flowers have never known)

take: in my hand yours
and walk the sloping path
into the gentle darkness of
oblivion. slowly. but if
by my side you are
i go smiling.

come earth
come flushly
come trees
come birds
come all warm living heat
come frothing leaves and grass
come oceans brimming deepest
come able breaths of god
come creation
come body
come soul
come all rightness; all rawness; all bleeding and kissing
come hurt
come pain sorely and pleasure elated
come knees greenly sooted in the Summers virginal lush embrace
come lovers
come clear crystal nights
come drunken muddled nights
come stars
come lips and cheeks
come arms
come hearts
come urge
come increase
come wilt
come rind
come life
come death
come all things simple
come all things complex
come all
come everything
come and i will meet you
come and i will greet you
come and i will touch your bodies with my bodies
come and i will brush the lewd breaking dirt of you with the clean sturdy skin of my body
come and i will know you
come and you will know me
come O soft careless husk of amorous purple spring
come lilting
come graceful careful colours of flowers blossoming
come sun
come light
come women
come men
come **** ample female things
come mothers
come children
come into each distinct infinite freckle of the days agreeable self
come churches
come houses
come hovels and shanties
come love(and hate even)
come each thing and i will kiss you and i will tangle the crass and the beauteous in the immutable soul of my flesh
come and make
come and do
come and live
come and rejoice

All things good
All things evil
(nothing was ever either wholly
even holy neither)
All things studious
All things slack
All things fair
All things ugly

(the world's a body innumerable
a body complete
a voice and sinew
and to each great
frolicking kind bit
and to each meek
cowering mean bit
we are all
and everyone of us is
we contain every creation
every destruction
every birth
every immolation)so let's reconcile our own flesh with it
                                 and let's meet it squarely
                                 let's fit into it's cracks snugly
                                 and let's kiss each grain of sand
                                 let's love it
                                 let's become it
                                 (for it was always us
                                 and we were always it)
                                 (and i know it)

if i should die tomorrow lady
then tonightlady
let me sleep in the tight plume
of your thighs lady
let me lay them apart lady
and i will enter between them
waifish pillars elated
a rolling vibrant howl

would , maybe someone , inform me as to why
fleeced in morning's fiercely nimble glow
a flower might, undead, livid, 'gainst the neat
stomach of sky crackle stunningly minute
yellow
                  and roaring

                                             with intense fragility

be right next to my hip and with the 2 red, and a black, dots
of an ant scurrying across the span of a barely petal;gleaming
deliriously apt with colour)smile, a wan, nolips grin and
that that it might be Spring in a whole bright day clothed
in a seamless cowl of grey; the general blade of sky might,
like a leaf of grass, leap from heaven into my chest

               staggers
          ;
tumbling into domineering noon) and that I: ridiculously living, might
witness such an instant incredibly perfect. Dying
                                                                                        ?

to be so
without punctuation
and verbing
                with your soft nouns. it is i, it is thy, it is we(re an aroma

brittle day,
the singular flake
of your naked
obtuse ******* are
fine, "what dandies,
thick, toppled in
golden and tipped
in lightest, pink skin,"
conquers men and
flesh divine; the radiant
twin prongs of your
chest are rich, swollen,
and my fingers laid 'tween
them wreak of mint, lavender,
and they taste like warm blood
that i can barely fit inside (but
you like like it and drag me into
snarling night
                          (

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

do even reams of woods ? black as steeply whispering trees
                                                  (in dreams they do)
they speak creeping boughs
over laughter 'neath them
the dirt between their toes
                                                                                                     The
                                                                                                             Very earth
                                                                                                              Is their laughing
                                                                                                     The  
                                                                                                              Birthed vegetation
                                                                                                              Swayed slightly
                                                                                                                                                       by the hand of wind
                                                                                                                                                       and night so hewed
                                                                                                                                                       by pins from out her
                                                                                                                                                       they sparkle savagely
                              i walk
                                            , the earth upholds,
                                                                                   i am contained by nothing




                                                                                   ;
                                                               .

**** so little tremble(littletremblingthing)
you rough prickle, 'gainst my lips prickle
your day old stubble(idon'tcareifithurts
abit)and deeper digging mouth does
and those tiny splinters(asyousprout
yourentirelyquakingbody)get so
snugly piercing my skin i (but i didn't
care a bit even if they rip it clean from
my cheeks; those minute spears of yours
)pressing steeply even further i do
to get your fiercely pleasant muscles
up 2 1 startled splendor
(when you open sharply and cave out
one stifled ROAR,