let's be pretty
inpurple
(your eyes)i'll

your throat(and
)how

           about it?

with the nuzzling
of my love fist, baby?ican

make you pretty



                                 ,baby?and i

can kiss you,

                       dear.doyou

want it













          ?

wut

   wut've u beeen?weight, wait


waitin 4 u been(the mouth

(the hair the

    fingers)(inside the


)tuchin the touching
inside you the
way quick quivers
jostle in your wet wet?)

U been waiting for hands(4hands
)on your neck in your mouth

in your mouth's been waiting
4 sum fingers

4 sum lick spit fingers
(your mouth:

sum wut's

been

weighting

4 sum.    Wut?

door and wall
narrowly divided

lengths and lank)a cat body pours instantaneously


gone

it is big how life gradually through speaks girls
tall beautifully

                                 and little ugly perfect

                            flowers and flowers and flowers


in WINTERSPRINGAUTUMNSUMMER reign

and rain

                 from wind

                                        wind shook

                                                          ­       boughs              LEAVES!



in crunching miles of soundless quickly trees


                                                   straight and straight and straight


row on row into the night march(but curl a bit at their finger,s
eager brushing)(my heart's fine dismal smirk
                                                           ­                                                 )

there is by you occasionally a mouth,
i would like to climb inside(.)it Spring
under it the red pink occlusion: stupid
                                                          ­        youth

hanging by a hangs on a string,
of smart immutable dumb loveless loving

careens and gestures (which of) there is
a thing not like a thing i have ever. (have you?)

                     an ever have you a
                     dumb youth wanted
                     to immutably break
                                  ?


i that might like could you like to to.

if you'd like to too.

i could climb too into you

say not rightly(withme)the name of everything
i won't say it not the way said it to say by everyone
nor will i

                   nor will i

                                        nor will i, so
                                        say it not right
                                        with me
                                        the name of everything

the sky is amorous of the clouds
the clouds are amorous of the wind
the wind is amorous of the trees
the trees are amorous of the earth

so is seen
that each loves of each
but never in return

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

it is the dawn which
(skillfully erected)
light hands improbable

touch


              just


with barely strength

lift and lift

the sinuous lid of night

)peeling vigorously
the closed earth

    ****

My Dear who's come through winter
Growing with soft roughness
How you have become my kiss,

The pressing of my heart within
my breast,
And the pushing of my breath.

Oh Dear your hands are small
And move into my hands
With smallness, their pale beauty.

Dear, in Winter, who is dying,
You are life made skin and health;
Your lips are always playing
With softness as their wealth.

thatsh itlitt lepunk


           bitchshe

herfuk


                    inhair's

shortshaved


an

           dfu



    ckshe'


******>


                   'erhandssmall




fit so easily

inmy'andssmall that





fukkinbitsch

punkassshiiit.

against sky feet
tread just nicely
and don't falling
(for in each step
contained love
buoys ecstatically)

somewhat i
am a spacious blade

with infinite
thrusting prowess

into the
cool fist o' mystery

and run
it hot bleeding

speak loudly silence lips less
about a word more dumb
and shiftless

forever

in the habit

of perfection

what you were the way something
drunk apart cool between rough and
shaven legs a small flint of tinder
caught burning at boy lips too apart
too kneading lustfully hunched at play
talking about this and that "color is
perfect how you balanced them in this
piece" watching your stroke finger fur
buzz the cusp of your lick i want to
taste bulging nuzzle of broken flesh.

the small sweating ***
roundly curled
into the moon

flits by flensed brilliance

'tween cloud and shook
quaver of churlish sea

igniting by wan dying force
all the forest to teeter
on apt flesh:

lusting to feel
the plush saber

of caving darkness                                          .

when i spill smiling lips i cluster them on yours lady you lady you, like pearls and wine, you are bones deepest and i like you and i play you. i play such tunes as on your hips i tap them lightly with my finger tips i tap a little orchestra on that hard pretty straight blade of bones you have stucking so elegantly out that pale and warm pool of flesh. you creature are a moment exploding and you lady are a star; fallen roughly in my eyes you sparkle blinding me before steps i stumble up them to you Heaven.


            (and U don't kno it(but i do)    )

enter me the intense sojourn of our lips
that i might

step upon

each flensing kiss

my toward darkness body

each more of its less and
set into its bite
my own teeth.

what if i destroy you
what if i put you between heaven
and hurting
what if i love you
what if you find me dreaming
some morning and lushly
fold me in your crispest singe

                ?

what could be more ridiculous than

this moment?the

sunmoon bloodfingers and

fucklovely

spate of effulgent  starlight; Darling that

your lips suddenly
seem to do? (my hands

the curling
of a cute cut
in clear water

a slendering
band of crimson

tracing the arcuate heap
of life's reeling–

caving to fill
in blistering flens
of brilliant
dying
instants–

,"I love you." the sand
a beach occasionally
the back seat of an old
car the sleep fitfully
morning of rising
too early into your mouth
a flower gleams by
broken of silence
sunburnt and smelling
of aloe rubs
with the cool rub of
coiled muscles , . ;                            (my Dear
                                                                  w
                                                                      e will die)
                                                            the night will
                                                            trun upon a blade
                                                            of light; our
                                                            skin will bunch
                                                            into delicate
                                                            rills of dry
                                                            coils and
                                                            dust become.    .          .                   .









                                                      BUT,

dear i will hold (you) that impossible violence of the first quiet moment of
your lips that i held slightly in my own i will hold it in my heart that
unbroken stem of your frail laughter of supple vibrance made my dear i will recall the hurt wildness of your eyes and bruise of your soft voice
my dear i will hold in my tiny hands the vast pulpit of your hairsong
and bloodpoem my dear i will forget not the dull and moments each
i will remember the early mornings and lashed travail of each lashing
voice.


                                   (My Dear I Will Hold You.
                                    I Will Carry You.
                                    INTO THAT NEAT DARKNESS
                                    . i will cup the serene mystery
                                     of every stupid minute of our
                                     body and dear
                                     i
                                     w
             i
              l        
                l

.

you think


                     makes



                                           (hurt


              me

                    )creeping                                      you


                               between


                 fingers' fay


barely and leather

(stud and skin)

teeth against open
your shoulder blades
apart seemingly *****

tighten furiously into
a grin



                 when

                 most
                 is
                 pain

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

hello.

you are there
you are something
i think that you are easily dreamless.

you are the white
turning over of pale morning
into your neck and the pooled freshness of your *******.

you are these two things:
my hands–which make within
themselves bloodsong and wine.

finely twined with pale wire,
your eyes rest below your scalp:
they are chips of ice–limpid; ****.

(you stir you pull your hand into my
hand i kiss over the sleeping of your
white cheeks i stroke your golden hair
i slip my leg under your leg:

I can never touch enough of you.)

the"fu"ck(U
                     )17

whyn't.let's

cuz yerI'm A **** "we"re
hangin by
a long fingernail,nail
,nailin U
withaaa
finger(tasteit)
don'*** taste?                                                               Good

fall just over flowers
upward

heavy waits

heaven and

me to collect your

cheeks and

to your nice straight bangs

face clearly to smatter

with my lips infinitely and

kiss you always and without ceasing

forever and forever and forever and forever and without ceasing




                                  FLOWERS UPWARD WITHOUT CEASING KISSING FLOWERS foreveR

the new perfectly lewd sublime
umm drunk sum
*** dum
blindly apart

   stoopid

girl around
rotund hurting

             Completely


without self
gives each lurching
empty towards full mouthing
, "please


              just


    love

                   me.
                           "

what Idid is
i looked right
cutting through
the brambles and shale
and into
your very chest
and (
          what
       saw
              i
        were
              such beauty
                so
             colours
            and
              deeply
         stitched
             ) in you
               i have spied
               almost breaking flowers
               about whom i'd draw my
               careful hands and cup
               them carry them
               in my heart those
               nearly caving stemmed
               roses i'd
                               love
                                      them

once
                            



                                       i
                                         was (not
                                                         )
                                                          in love with youw
h
   a
        t,Happened?

i love you
And

(after ******* your throat)

you are so pretty
in short dark
hair eyes
cut by running

with little
rills of
eyeliner
and sweat;

cheaks alive with
glowing of
luster and fair
youth–perfuse;

firm and supple
through the
hip and belly:

i want to be
always kissing
and tasting
deeper
into your thighs.

"You're very beautiful, by the way. Now please take your ******* off for me."

your voice is *** i had forgotten how
its the lips do make by their parting
the jerking of nerves to teem upon
the single tingling of its seamless singing.

(all rasped with **** and an after the show smoke i hate the smell but love the flavor of when it stops being near to farness and with imminent instantaneous kissing becomes

"who knows?" by body what
eglantine,
silver curving
upon heaps of
curving flesh:

upholds some girl hips
on two sturdy beams
of nicely wide
so easy to dash against
folding pink cruelty?

(i wonder) and how
you fit archingly
on your back
the gaudy sinew
of faultless youth–

(your ******* *** feels so good inside)

the rumpled fool
of boy stings
to fill with heat
every crumb of
slattern'd SPRING.

"I can't sleep," she said her lips were and body went a forest to the very edge of the sea.

that kind of "*******

i ' m

goingtosmoke

a cigee                       "is



(to me)          so




so body
andso

it's

dying stupid wonderfully
to taste like

when lips are our(andtongueplease

.  these deep uply
)whom i'm become
              as you'm

i'd like to with       (
achingly clutch
the whim whisper

the sure hum
and crisp vibrance

of white white mouth;

always starrily
always upwardly

           :          body

of snow in June(

whose light pertness be ).

whose own wish nothing ever
so be could:



as white.




as mouth.

thinks i to be dust is nicer than
without flesh without your flesh

skin and skin
increase

(The big moon was large overhead cross legged
sitting in balmy press of summer's flower stars
unrapdily tiny glittering from nowhere teeth as
white peaked between lips quickly stealing away
your smell is still in my sheets your blood is still
there where you stained them hard by a pressing
needles "ouch" you said i thought it was pretty
and from between your thighs crept a burst of
crimson fresh and stinking of copper in a small
hot room i had too much to eat please don't be
mad at me i'm sorry about what i said my fingers
banded in the rolling blades of amber exactly
street lights rolling over them amber not amber
amber street lights through the wind shield

        you were sleeping coyly nothing                 )

to be dust is nicer

i think

did we ever? like summer did. so smoothly into cool light. our very bodies went without us to the wet little wet edge of the biggest hardest lake where god and earth were touching sometimes suddenly. and their sorry eyes stung with a new mostly fragile tear. and we called it SPRING

are we
unlike steel? (more like light
made supple leaves of grass in
sleeping mountains where lay we
our hands of fire shorn of appolo,s Breath
                                                                         tangling with the boughs of forests
                                                                         darkly
                                                                                   waiting
                                                                       deeply
                                                                                     softly)

some first naked stars
they bunch right up
to the lip o' nite
                             (and before)
                                      but afterth
                                                       e
                                                 y
                                                        
                                                      j
        
    


                                                          u


                                        s



                                                t

                                                         p



                                        ou









                                                                            R

dreams don't dying
never live, born
though, of stillness
or moving liquid
silver perhaps or
red
         blue

                     yellow

louder and louder
one or the other or
none(orallofthem)

dreams cold, hot
, febrile
                haughty

distinguished

                          naked

(in)vulnerable

                              dreams

unnicest winter die please cold
and let Spring unlaboured
                          unclosed Spring come

please, winter dying, that for you
coats and hats
tightly of bodies worn
from the slick ice
thinly which veils
the limbs of trees, naked, save for
thy

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

to beingly is
to dyingly make of
white flesh

a most brutal mute song–

arms and hands behind
music of throat
–full of fingers–

pushed fingers into short throat,
deeply;

trying to
and openly
needs of, spit

where unsoftly comes
and fingers fit.

2wo deep thighs of night
hold in their crest
my mouth to instantly linger
less than to leave
only

of lust which
to taste
i

(healthless droll and constantly)

am my lips
between secret folds
of darkness
hung with

a crisp shingle
of Spring light
(whom Shakespeare
might said, "A
star danced,
and under that wuz I born.")

tasting as to taste what flavor that
what tastes like sea on scorch'd flat.

hello i love you the way
you are not.

i love the way you(let's)
become painful
to touch.

to fingers,
fold beneath
like the edges
of a knife are to fold

into my flesh
crimsonsome
and welling of(roses).

to You,

dear reader,  (who i am)

that you are

the way–the same


risen
of nothing dirt
grass through
stars and fire:

the very finite mystery of life
is a sliver in the quick of the night

burning;
jousting of
fierce lung
to make your body
within other bodies

a new molten slowly
freezing
quip of moments
seized
by brute slender violence

a repeating ever outward into darkness flame;

who'll ***** their fingers in fear of pain
(and find themselves in Summer Rain

short moss
i love you mostly wet
if not
i'll make it
                  with
                  my
         mouth

i love you that you are like your body;
the hair between lips quick
with thighs around

folded

folding inside–to be

inside of folding lips
upon slick freakness
of dark soul

(the fragment of your mouth does
inescapably the totally arduous
fist of its bulb to spread comely
each instant of pulsing life
with brutal health    .                     )

i love and i wonder
(approximately)
half dead into your
muzzle the painful spurring
of my love root

;

and your neck reaches
,hurting, to your chin
with limbic sweat ;

i love it
and it is like your body
you are

the coiled foiling of death
to remind through immutable pressure
its constant grasp.


i love it
and that occasionally
i am the body

you like to be.

you're bloods so
and i put my
finger
          right
in it i dip
it right into
you're blood
so
    and

milkwhite,

                           you're so. and

warm sticky

'round each finger

thick and
white and.
your stomach is

                                         cream

it is bitter an
D soursweet  
it feels like dough
firm and it froths
with writhing muscles Milk