your *** is like ****
(i think) and the backs of your knees
are like
i think. very nice to be inside of

i would you,

do you think too?

your lips and perhaps?

i would like oh dear to fit
like rain fits in April;
very wet and strictly.

oh dear and to eat you tinly i would hurt myself
with the hardness of earth. i would climb
into your fist very stiffly a flower. andear,
i would lay a hand against your unmeeting(
i would enter the primness of your heap
A mountain of unsleep. ) andear

i think you,

(do you think tooo)?

4 stiffened, his joists are particularly long and gnarled lances
of pearly bleach. gradually skinless of bones lanky with hands
laid a scythe. he waggles and sheds surly mortal coils we waif
to dust in polite crumbs of rotting health
and his breath is specific. a lash of practical mort

let's beholden the mask clouded face
o
                                                             f
dying gods natural arteries corral brevity
stringless heart sheaf
bask crushed stems
in the crease of love wracked lips
  mercury heels slither

                                            to

boundless expanse's delicious meadow hair
wind whispering delicate veins
hard the soft meticulous shivers rooting

)ardent vine

                                                            ouy
are the              
                                      most



                0(

begging narrow trees stand expanse
naked sky beseeching for
the wet lips of a thousand little children

they

                           grow that way.

always pleading. unquenchable green drunk
ascents. to play a dream. in hands of roots.

stand trees. a soil bed soft to your appeals.
grace my vision neatly dumb straights.

pierce the moon sweat arbor men.

.                                                like doing i you
             you're
               velvet
                    and
                        your
                          pearled
 ­                             *****
                              ­   pleasure
                                       notch
                                                           ­       from
                                                     ­                whence
                                                          ­                 do
                                                              ­                  perfumed
                                      ­                                                roses meekly
                                                          ­                                spit

                           ­                     the snatching
                                                       ­    song of your
                                                            ­           thighs
                                                          ­                  wet music
                                                           ­            where is
                                                           dumbly my
                                                ardor spent

                                                          ­                                      in furious
                                                         ­                                                mechanical
                                                      ­                                                           pumps

do i
      (with under you
        r skirt
          i pluck you
           snarling
            little fairy
             my fingers
              nimbly gowned
               in your flesh
                and wetness
                 completely
                  slipperying
                   )
                        reckon swelling
                       eve falling lushly
                       her stink
                      on
                    U
                       string
                    fervently
                   pumped
                       into right
                    between your
              lips
suddenly
              !

.






























              "You turn me on in a different way that I'm not used to."































.

a screaming truth in 2 childs
marked hideous dreams
darkness ***** lilac strips
                        o
                     f
bruises billowing under white candor
the multiple me's cram an illusory pose
onto the i of every passing persona
a no different thy then their you's
rabble of moments and memories
carved in physical demeanor

(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

we                         areonly         what
          
          we                    are.    clean predators
all muscles knotted fascia grimacing in
blood. swollen violence,blackeyed
nails scrabbling dainty sanguine troth.
careful gears wild nerves crackling.
and mars only fathoms the humor
of dead skin broken smooth graves
picket the hills.
                             yet          pledge i do
my little arms to
                              a pursuit of
gently broken skulls.

                                         art

and i say the sun is callous
     for nothing ever shall be
so
                beautiful

as the delicate fronds splayed unerringly
before my hands. and i do place my vestige
in its thrall and as it is i am nothing compared
to the softness of its belly. so lay inlaid with
rouge splendor and indelible.

   beneath  and
under and my tongue
is the sprouted clavicles
an orchard of pleasure in verdance
     blazingly dim in the moon puddles
writhing     the    muscles of implacable sensation. go to the tiny hall


            and whisper

with Venus. she is grace and smooth and the sea muttering
with the loose wind. fashioned from naked blood.

being a girl, who for the first time 18
gave 22 (and bruised) a throat supple
patinaed for the first time in sweat
and breaking gave 22, for the first
time 18, inimitable painful redness(
didn't even notice till the end and
)black nails scraping the tender
mess of crimson giving pulled me
out and asked for the first time 18,
"again, pleasE?"

who art thou?dawn caked child
                                      correct
quiet
                      sounds
      so
                               silent
2 tongued
               colour
say                        no

           more
                                   bashful
mirror tones all hushed blues
dapple spring
puddles fresh flesh craves
rubber(yellow)sole
punctuating mirth flavored
moments       fade
     fade
                     f ade

fa d e


                f
    
    a
                

                         d








                                                         e

i do pretty things
20 or 3
whose strongly
frailing
bodies possess
youngness
in the
delightful crimp
of the 2
small dimples
they wear
on
their
lowering backs
up rising
cheek
wreathed tenderly verdant
promise

               (!)

I am largely a common article. of bone and blood:
a flesh stocking i wear on my god. and at night i
climbintoitshead(a kind skull rectangle of thought)
and life is there and death is there and autumn's
summer wilting fragile new decay, freshly ancient. and
temporary hands hush a dreaming mouth;oral and
crescented, a grim mammoth habitually tiny fragment
of large serious nightmares. Who by who's arms, corroded
and muggy, the common large article of i is a singular mul
-tiplicity of and i and with unthinking clarity a hot colour
of stink...

SUMMER,
                   you this are effortless nonsense a girl
                   before coolness you are honey
                   sticky between familiar and new
                   your lips invite my lips
                   to kiss every sudden burning
                   spontaneous second
                                                        (some of you is days)
                                                        soft hot days
                                                        where is melting ice
                                                        in quick cups sat
                                                        on tables outside cafes
                                                        where we meet we
                                                        ourselves under your skirt
                                                        heaven waits in one crease
                                                        a flower dimpled with
                                                        giddy writhing pleasure
        and

                  some of you is nights
                  hard magic nights
                  where blood and ***
                  are a union surly
                  and quiet stifled groans
                  (so we don't wake your
                  roommates)
                                                                              and
                                                                                                     all of you is one long *****
                                                                                                     iridescent and over your sinew
                                                                                                     it sweats poems and laughter
                                                                                                     in a small meadow we found
                                                                                                     between forests in trees
                                                                                                     and we sit and we are almost
                                                                                        forever

                                    



                                         ((you are that) summer)

y speaking breath
                       l                                take
                 p                          timidly
              e                                   (yearning sweltering swelling fire
          e                                                          and cut languidly
       t                                                                    the shape of subtle
   s                                                          carnal clangor;into the passive
                                                                 mound of my coffee hard
                                                                      embolism) an anabolic
                                                                    shriveling eruptioning
                                                                 testosterone fountain


                                                   i,m not my own. at this quivering
                                             plussing of my heady gobble
                                                            i,m
                                                      only stone softly
                                                  ungently
                                                                  an engine
                                                           of pure
                                                        *****
                                                                     pumping

sudden dawn treader sweet supreme
blond absent sugar brain dithers
on tantalizing cool green reds
traipse proficient dark/light music
into resilient hued rainbows
i challenge any daughters sun
to worship more acutely the pulsing
beat of
           you
                 endless
                             never

spread your tremulous
        t
     e a r
        s
in strokes of brilliant radiance
          On alabaster canvas;
                      
                              all shivering stops
at this texture of
                a sparkling cowl
drawn over mine i's
        i ***** at the indulgent
    smattering of cool colours
rippling on the calm cheeks of
                                        A
crying
            
                         sun

scream absolute violet
the vehement throat of night
blisters insanity
                               and some little reds
what talk like death
      wriggling skulls
full of strobing darkness   &

              angry blood

scarleted in superficial heat
                                                      a thrombosis
aligned rickety knees knocking
      weak lipped fire
                                   ,        at sonorous clouds waspish dint
resting aggressively supine starlight
  in crusts of vibrant tears
   spotting ardently the quavering note of black

D
eath is a gray lady; waiting and.
       she is whitely quiet but always niggling the
bones in our frameless panes. pale cheeks stained
onyx rivers or. ash skirt fluttering in no breeze. felt
   but heard whispering in our.

dEath is a solid nothing. or green stems bent withering
petals dry under and stiff. blooming never more ever more.
a manure tree odoring better than.

                  death is a noise unheard blaring
                     but death isn't your delicate plush
                 perfectly imperfect perfection. in my cleft
                           stunningly dim. death is. waiting and.
                  a silent riot of colourless gardens frozen
                                infinite decay. a notion so sweetly bitter.

death is a gray lady!so cometo my sheets and spread
        your legs and salty tears and feathers gently or.
                             peacefully scream deAth in the rapture
                 of
          my
                     palms           and.

come into me
i would know you
i would feel you in my hands

speak not a word
i need no lips for you
nor eyes
nor shoulders
nor blood of heart

come into me
come in to me

come in

to me

my hands are warm
my bones are firm

where my feet are grows flowers
where my fingers, grows light

they tread in the quietest of forests
they have split the rind of the earth

in it, they pressed a seed with each step
in it, they have sown a breath

i have cupped my hands about the hot, rough blood of the earth
and i have taken it in to me

come in to me
i would know you as i know myself
i would hold you in the span of my breast
i would shield you from a blade
i would meet the blow of a fist

come in to me
do not hold at the edge of darkness
do not waiver in thy step
do not balk or quiver

come into me
i know not a thing
i know not a whisper

please

please

come in to me

i love sUMMEr oh i love it like like i do
i think because i love magic and i do
the darling suicide of its breast's between
i laid a crown of poppies and thistles
i laid a forest of ivy and of jasmine
i laid a hand between them and its hips
i laid (at least) 2fingers (3please)

                     SummeR

always tight and wet wants more fingers
between hips (and i laid a girl between them)
she rolls around when you stick her with a
thorn(andwhenyoucomeoutthere'scratches
all over your neck and you bleed a little
but it's ok SUMmer says coyly)


she's a **** and i love her

dying is that a little girl x63
going into dust as from which
came her just sixty three years
ago not loved once within
them or met with the kind
smile of anyone but her old
little cat that just as her within
became as into dust like
(From which they were breathed)
that 63 years ago pile of used to be

it didn't feel at all like summers cold folding gregariously as a shimmering doth prance elephantine drifts amorphous to my ear listening for wet who might singularly announce in  most brevity the closing of the white door who drinks our warmth of toes and phalanges numb little digits and voice i taste the small crumb of enormous winter with her head buckling symmetry like the twin steel of so gracious a giggling fancy

w

          w



                         wh



                                             what loves


                                                     this
                                                        I?i
                                                      loves the
                                                      rushing of in girls
                                                      Summer when heat
                                                      does its lips in forked
                                                      seething.

                                                       I loves
                                                       the hush
                                                       of almost winter nights
                                                       and the concise
                                                       melancholy
                                                       of empty rooms.


                                                        I loves
                                                        the by
                                                        cherriest of wristness
                                                        to loosely
                                                        in vagrant slumber
                                                        stir whitely.


                                                        I loves
                                                        the brother of my brother, and
                                                        the little timid
                                                        of barely unviolence boys
                                                        (in fists very tightly which).

                                                         But.

                                                          w w   ww what loves
                                                           Iis
                                                           the most
                                                           of life
                                                           and lessing
                                                           too
                                                           of it
                                                           into
                                                           primest daftness of sleep.

in my own who littler leans youth
everyday and who lunges with
splendor

                   golden deep
                   brown lovely

brass like skin and a fairies
waist obstinately arcuate
concaves into

                             convex a

lot like rain hips

fall wetly on my open hands

noosenice night come
come kindly
and ****** me
of normal
whim and wit night
purple easy
                       night crusted
                                  in casual
                                       Spring
                                       the delicate
                                       stiletto of thee
                                       paled tween rib
                                       and sinew
                                                           The
                                                           quick sliver
                                                           of the moon
                                                           which by affable
                                                           stupid violence
                                                           is a smiling cudgel
                                                                                                That
                                                                                                stumbles brilliantly into
                                                                                                my skin
                                                                                                where the prime magic
                                                                                                of fairies have also
                                                                                                been and split their
                                                                                                thighs
                                                                                                admitting
                                                                                                                      LIFE

this day it felt

     it felt

         i
t
     fe
                lt like AUTUMN?a

    sprig of decay in every cell of

       rusty leaves. the murmur of.
streetlights likeit. the damp friscalation of mangled chromatism

   eve meekly plastering my skin. are we? i am. your me



                                                              






                                                                          MY LIFE SAID: hello?

some things in me dying are gods
(but not magic

    no


                                 magic always


unfurls 'er little
tickling
in my
and
                   i

                                )she the


              magic


to caress
'gainst my cheek

the easy span:
her innerest thigh

(i to kiss which up
crawl
fantastically into
tightness


                andie    )

do not lay me amongst thy hand
(towar' heaven ascending)
of earth stuff more come.

come thy mouth as daughters;
come thy slavering, come thy pistil keep.
a flower,

come. come as
riotously fragrant Spring
snowing easily with health.

come, and, steal my soul for sleep;
and place 'tween the knees of forests
***** bales of sighing wind.

come in most unsilent clothed
thy myriad of flesh.

come and life

unmeet thy thighs
,admitting,

perhaps the lather(your colour)
through me to seep.

i love you it the world
and

i love

how by the way
when you laugh
shakes all your body

just a bit
your body

like your body
it shakes
the rain

it moves even when it doesn't and

it feels warm inbetween my sheets(hands)does
your body

and when you stir
in the morning
stirs more the sting
the hot
the ring the
when it
the morning does
sting does
the stir more ring does

of the sun through my shades
prickling very skinny
it reaches

to touch very lightly your hair
and meets my fingers there

(when you are laying
and i kiss
you
pull tightly
the curl of your legs)

i sit up and look out you
your arms
over me
become
and i
back again
into them
trip

like when i have looked up at the stars and my breath
winds up into them
a neat and easy coil

you are like your lips

and your lips are like the sun
dashing
across infinite nothing
to meet my lips

in such heat
i think them cherry to touch

but a poem is not you
nor are you a word

instead you, Dear, are

gold

that beneath from
sturdily shouts a girl
in milk as body white

easily

that snipped of barely
perhaps flits enormously
which face is hers

curiously

curling upon
most girlish smile
of most maybe lips

gone

behind quick glass
–and rain started
to fall

held is it if summer is most?
(and a bluffing manure ) finely a hotness
of unmarking serf. the beach
gambled with moonlight
errant frolicking cluttered foam
  and a little sharp rock bruising your palm
which is unshallow purple
like the firmer shade
i am whereing
on optic
orifice                             .                 spring is first. a wig of new moist teeth
                                                           cranking tirelessly sore lean branches effort
                                                           lessly green voice shaking in a gorgeous
                                                           breezy plain. crumpling swift hesitant cold
                                                           floundering winter shes'that like a me
                                                           a stupid magic at feverish impulse plunging
                                                           haphazardly clinging impotent listing surge
                                                           over the hairless empire of a bud bisected
                                                           most perfectly at the twaining force
                                                           this godless holy impudent burst
                                                           this SPRING

I think--mystery (doyou?) more unrigidly
suppose waters sweet and waters salt
mingle in kissing and shall they make?

founding all kiss

all feel

stomach and rib?

and suppose god,         do you think?

rib and loving, for i care
and give again in exchange

my side to part
my bone to pare

and for but only that: kiss

nights   sweat    pash

skin and skin and skin
(all nice. all lovely. all
clothed in unique mysterious
beguiling)

                      ankle and calf


breast and stem

for this i infer something perfect

(i less)

and think,

                       therefore,

                                                kiss

you ever nothinged with the **** graceful wind of blue? hue rightly void, the impervious shunt of caking dramatic trees. grip havoc dangerously and collide

when greener sits atop me earth
astride the human rind practically
eatage thrusted blueward hair
i'll innumerably chant life from
desiccated lips i'll sing life and
i'll say a whole ocean of upon
grass will lovers make dew
which (like me shall) make again
a body of beating and bragging
under stars and over me shall
make the feet of those miraculous
youth drunk kissers and i won't
be dead i'll be in every mouth
parted love hew imbued each other
like i did with you one summer ago
in sweetest juice of night honeying
every limb in suppler moonest light

the futures always never immediate
imminently futile brief furious
not like fields outward sprawling
instantaneously 'neath an entire
sea of stars faultless unheaving
pastoral breathless catches you
sharply between your *******
quivering elated passing immutably
into dust

                (and i just laugh and pull
                 the finite immeasurable
                 lust of thy beginning kiss
                 into a trembling pile of lips,

                                                                '

                                                          ,


                                                                     ,



                                            '



                                                                                .

raise the day
on salted ash
the earth is stilled
in noble glass

a gilt punch of harder redder
a golden scrape, dying never

the nights a bruise
a bruising sleep
who's face is ruse
a rousing meat

the gloating love of breathing daring
the precious heart of reckless caring

Today is well
a well so deep
your pleasant face
i'll surely keep

        (in chamber,
         vermilion sore
         a giddy place
         from words do pour

        "my hands art night
          my fists art day
           i've come to thee
            so let us play"

all the streets in girl things comely
arms a bit are haired in

               (tan and tan)


the golden crush of whose mute fingers
make blithe the spring
and against
find the night homely

piercingly the mooon against
into slivers thousand make
their drooping slender of cotton haste
as cherry petals,

                             a branch from shake


in the wind to uncurlsome
neatly wan ankles
and fists o' skin girlsome

crease and crease alike(andunlike)

gossamer



                          faintly





                                                          of




pinkest aching to part


To enter loving


To exit heart

And you firm and buttressed gorgeous scarlet
your health,like venus i timid and glut upon,
is also a god. harder than smooth and softer
than rough. a cool like steam and hot like
summers wings. a bird, charming and immense
she's nothing compared to you noble
to you
           t o           you
                                          there is nary a season more supple or lovely than the
undark shout of your plain and spectacular plume
      of resolute arms
                 on your shoulders
                                                   on your bones
                             your muscles
                     on them
                                      thy skin
                                                              who i dimple most commonly
          on saturnday mornings
                 when you peak beveled luscious havoc
in my brave and capricious bed
                                                           and you tousle my senses
        byTheFastStaggerOfYourMarvelous lips
      bounding pink
                                     and flush
                   madrigals in the infinite cavern of my
       very
                 and very
                                     smallest
h
  e
      a rt

did you know that a dynamic first cluttered light spilt about and smattered the various golden brimming lip of earth gilt in ******* bolts of mountain fat and even their ridiculous shoulders couldn't stop the dawn from treading succinctly marvelous sporadic flare

rise all loudly colours sing and RISE
from the body human things each
and fling wide all heaven from you

               ROAR


                                  and
                                            RISE

all from meekness rapidly glow deeply
hot like stars that blunder from night
into mortal dust leaning slowly faster
into nothing hurtle lust kissing swat
the crouching curl from thy skin soft
and
                         RISE

all quietly whispers fold and fold
again upon till reaches thy throat
1 young rage neatly unborn rage
splitting immensely darkness
pouring swiftly immortal shouting
invincible summer and

            RISE

filling oblivion with your naked
abruptly slender stupid *** O,

and rise

become 1 whole thing and do yourself in days so filled with posies they thickly shall encumber thy shoulders and you will wear heaven in thy paleset raiment (thy face over cheeks, your skin is so a smart whisper, where i set my tingling fortuitous lips). thou art a song, from out the mouth of cherubs, tumbling into my ears and i harken to smoothly each quaking electric note of your body firmest nearly pressed ‘gainst my body and i pull you down into me. into my ocean rushing into you, and i become gods

in the belly of her fragrance
laid and bared(it's where
the unclad baying of superior
determined fruit
hearkens genially my quaking
and my venom
to deftly smear my soul
in swollen anemic) hysteria

You--


                           th--


             at--



                           im--


       elapse--




                                                dest­oryin--





                      gre--







                 ­               worms through loam fidgeting crisply
                                of fingers death

                                an inch of living

                                 crawled the pairing chilled livid night

                                 (to the moon)

                                    


                   ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­        unstoppin





--g





                                         ­                    whispers




                                                    ­                  

                                             ­                                          whispers






                                                  ­             whispers






                                                  ­                                        


                                                              ­                                       whispers

crinkle dust
up on
           lashes frail
those mercurial onyx
splinters o' your sharp
eyes
        you catch me
looking at you from
the back of
                    the room
you catch me onyour
sharp eyes
                   grinning
a slutty rictus
                        you cut
a sharpness out the air
with them
                   green shards

from the tiny melody of your hips
sp
    r
         ou
                    t
                           s)
the symphony of your waist licks the air
as each stride bifurcates the clean summer heat
feet snapping a flip-flop symphony. crunch the petals
and drip into my apex. stubbornly beautiful
you are sharp and green. a perfect thorn. towering
precisely with ******* freckled softly with my lips.

                    what divinity smiled this

upon my skin. you.
                                            ;
i drink your breath and taste your heart. exactly.
        the puckish rhythm of your thighs
is pulsing steady and unbearably. nerves all stumbling
electricly tingle to the deft razor of your nails. i       was
       a  
                    m
                    a
                    ­ n.   but now merely,               a

she '
           s a bigflavor
stuffed with agile bones
and gracious stocky elated heat. winsome flush density: that to(o
which i'm merely malleable metal
some gold, palmed freshly
in the grove of supple magic
a boisterous thigh and i,m love

                        I,m

massive.

i
  ' m witless charming music i
                                              m '
clumsy lighting gnashing slow
at lewd digestible ****** of your swift
fiber shedding miracle or you
                                                     my quavering note
      of pure violence
                                         stabbing rightly my paunchy ego
    and bleding
          i steal into your absolute cherry and marvel
viciously the timber of your soul
which burns and freezes gratuitously like the sun and earth
who are lovers like we
effortless
     and
                                                    )ETERNAl

i am sometimes am
and am and am
(like rain even)
my fingers or my
toes like drinking
the svelte mat polish
of hot wet asphalt
lingering in winter's
dying hands

sometimes i am like that
acrid and pleasant
i waft particularly
up steaming narrow
columns of wetish
light dappling suddenly
back alley ways
flitting with the mute
hulk of a monday
afternoon

in town sometimes
down town sometimes
me and me together
alone go spilling
with the wind through
the unkempt smiles
of rough lonely folks

(and sometimes always
i split my cheeks
curling on there
cold bitten winter
rouge a warm
flowing crescent)
to each person
i pass and i love
everyone of them