behind my eye twitches) not a whisker stirring from immense sleep leaps arcuately determined of slim air to meander in precise dithering cuteness (a fat and orange ellipsis
stiffmuscling die erected foal trees. Barely skinned
,
.
'
.
,
.
'
. H e A V y with light dying of shadows )between
o WNTR i skip a penny across Bu g e yed june
(Ag irl inn
ot enough clothing
,cuz it was june o lord it was so hot i could feel my sweat across the
palm of each hand go slick like oil across the cool common pinch of the fuzzed in ***** tinter grass.
i o and uncurling stiffly went like the shoots off of roses: topaz i went red like the bitten ****** of girl tingling unchastely snowless hips )without WNTR which soft of hard and hard of itch itch and itch (in WNTR to please remove me my health and barely skin me a foal tree
wet stoops wet sleeps down beside vibrant hulks of day into night becoming a persimmon fleshed in robes of sweetish musk of raging dark:
that blind canny o' comely marsh where sweats tallly the brisk frigid smirk of winter coming into between–
i cannot fathom nor wonder 'pon a thing more violent **** or primly stolen than the absurd tumor of suddenly which every immense second of life Is.
and how do i call it? how do i name it by itself? is it nameable? is demanded some strict finitude of immutable logic? or is impossibly monikered in nothing short of illimitable self?
(and who have I been? have i been myself? where did i begin? and shall i ever end in knowing?)
that loves you the terse crushing pulse of hard darkness a forest through infinite leaf opens the keyless vault of being and parts every vestige of self beneath the moon becomes livid every cutless blade with white incredibly fleeting dust of immense light
it wigs
instantly the body
in tons of weightless flower
all limb to dance with coursing heave
of minute electricity
over which can barely be heard the mute rushing of grass, "
i(it seems)am like your skin. or also i like it. the way y o u wear it. clever sugar hills giggle richly. in my mouth soft candy. melting exactly on my tongue. and ravage my pink. daft heart petals split your cotton wrapper, a n d grace your tubercles in my hands with fingers splayed about your quakes. cupping your electric pond blossom shudder queen. dance your sighs in the tremendous cavern of my lips; slay apprehensions filigree scriptured on my soul.
you are my only; and beyond all others; are the sun; you; perfect; and horrible; yet; a dream; i would never wake
"*******," this if not alive if not dying of each buzzed ripple of breath which tensely erupts into uncoiling fold of morning over the silent chord of sunrise
seems if not speaking seems to eternally youth, breaching the seamless cording of a short girl's throat–says,
not to live is normal more normal than to live is to eat and sleep too late on saturday mornings or to meet with cloven skin the bare rawness of your chest .
more normal than to is, is to is not wasn't never was and won't be ever more than the gesture of your thighs threaded with moonlight on sweaten summer eves.
and to because i assert it is more normal than to kiss to with lips ,the dirt, i
it came about i graced higgly piggly (to saunter, generally, my flayed marble in the gross determined light( winter specially came upon all the arbor straights slatting it correctly,
a glum thickly dolloping gray today to day i say this day i say today today (a lip is twice as thick when knuckles tumble rumble numbly bumble over pearled lengths of ivory smearing in his gobbing gabbing moral oral silence bruising orifice) in class listening shortly to hard and bitter wafts arrogant and nimbly shoveled "he was 20lbs heavier than me"
say numbers the little white toothed sliver of a grin hair breathlessly tousled about fingers stairs (winding) upwards constantly tall moments of absolute singleness
into 4 hands 2 fingers inside lips strictly around to eat 2 lips 30 minutes of ultra caressed hyper scrupulous tense heaving ;
say numbers 7,205 seconds until reaches the startling pinnacle of über sensuous gangling drugged with blonde milk suddenly supple between, "my dear,"
count as to count by more than 20 digits to feverishly blunder through hurried wanting to crush,
( say numbers and speak not numbly of the nimble bumbling of thy pale fracas an earth will be born from within wishing will to will unworried a fraction cut beneath the navel by a tremendously incalculable urging to rush
i am mostly i and i am mostly fascinated with women and their forms and bodies and the elegant fulcrum of their waists and the very softness of their skin and how the sun mingles them in the summer air they are the very ample petal of the earth and they blossom from the rough soil of it and they sing upon wind and i sing them. they are more beautiful than nothing else is more beautiful than they littlest and firmest flesh i would kiss upon them flowers and in mountains of them i lay at their very feet and i would tell each one how fathomless and perfect are their eyes (and they don't know it)