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.

doing just the body lips
girl full of sits
short skirt barely
inches into
smooth mile
becomes

hands neatly
collapsed in
perfect house of
curled beauty

from which
twitch

two spates
of fragile wrist
twist upon

eery limb
of excellent
arm

metting
just clasp
of shoulder

under
which fits

over
cleat of
marble neck

holding hover
of heaven's
strand:

a face like
she so
April
drunk inside with
flowers Spring

and everywhere

  (constantly)


    MUSiC

I know I tell you this all the time, but I love you so much. I'm so unbelievably thankful to have you in my life. You are the most perfect woman I have ever met.

I know you are sleeping right now, and I know it's the most beautiful thing on this earth, because I have watched you sleep, curled up next to me. The neat calmness of your face, the way your hair falls across your cheek–I love it, I love it so much.

I want to be prefect for you. I want to make you happy and fill every moment of your life with joy.

I feel stupid. These words just aren't what I want them to be. I wish I could truly tell you how much I care about you, but I just can't seem to put it the right way.

You are always within me. You are within my blood and soul. You are within every pulse of my heart, every lash of sunlight, every strain of laughter that passes from my lips.

I'm going to do my best to love you and treat you with the care and respect that you deserve. I know I'm not perfect, but please know that I am trying to be better.

I wish I could kiss you. I wish I was laying next to you tonight. I wish I could kiss your brow, and nuzzle you with my nose. I wish I could lay my hand across your skin and feel the heat of it pour through my skin.

Sleep softly and soundly, my love. I will think and dream of you tonight.

I hope you read this in the morning. I hope that some small amount of what I want to say comes through this to you.

I will think about you tomorrow while I'm at work. I will imagine the feeling of your hand in mine. I will remember the warm smell of your chest. I will think of you and love you, and my love will guide me to work hard and honestly. To do what ever I need to do to make our life as good as it can be.

I love you so much. Sleep well. I can't wait to see you again.

impromptu heaven
your sudden ample petal
drove clean straight wicked
a gnarling sodden wistful considerate
inconstant unpermanent rising golden bobble
(a really big wet
said on my heathen brow
the somewhat between
of your delectabley furnished hips)

oh the world
(smoothly electric)

which turns 'pon
a thread divisible

assumes such shapes magic
(hurling singly rotund)

to smash by impulsed fabric
with savagery so sublime

fists should
(uncurling)
turn from bruises


                                          into wine

remember, ,Dear
my always
fingers

through tousled
coils of sunhair
rainlight and
damp moonmusic

fold foiling
with heart
to imbue
each crisp
limit of your
breast with
darkness–caving

(in even hollow stress
wear my ardorous dress
though my neat closings near
as like even's purpl'd tress;

moves mouth:
A song through silence peer
immutable sound by guide
to ship of cloaken choler steer
toward harbors safe an' placid tides )

–i shall that lives though but only an instant of bright health
live by light that speaks
sing saying

a chord struck
by divinest stroke

resonating through all your earthly sphere

that and though
i shall die
in your chest
my immortal pulse

will ever lie

.                                                                ­                  



                                           ­                                           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

walking briskly
clutched purse
brown slick
leather gold
dangles chain
boot to hip
(*** in jeans)
tighter pliantly
addresses earth
beautifully crushed
rouge brunette
hair lips
ivory between
flashes parting
eden A
serpent and,
"excuse me"

.




























                "I love you."



                "If only it were that simple."
























.

you, who arrive out of nothing,
sleeked of rain
drown by fingers all the pud-muddley world

and comes thy hair so soft

and comes thy blithe so bonny

as feet of snow
(where love can't grow)
and eats all beams a tawny

my HAND)
                    a drink
                                loudly
                                         was
                                    there
                                          cut
                                       by
                                         a slight
                                  wedge
                                         of
                                             lime
                                    it had
                                       also
                                    a sharp
                                        blade
                                     of
                                       mint
                                   in
                                        it
                                   ,a gawking
                                 boy sat
                               with
                                 his
                                         lover
                                  in
                              round
                                     *******
                                 fit
                                    his
                                eyes
                                     music
                                 complaining
                               and
                                     "the bass
                                    is too loud"
                                 she
                                      looked
                                 like
                                         spit
                                       heaving
                                  and
                                           a
                                      SIGH

it completely staged was your throat
1/2 broken perhaps yowling by a
long mouth inching rapidly

in eager please to
tell a boy how much he did
your cherry knees to wobble
(the anger of his hands
and the thrusting of his bobble)

for 6months wearing
a back into his sheets
only your inch mouth long
saying to darling I
for  a 1/2 year didn't

really ever come

that fragile instant dream
of when your body smallest
and supple pleasing nooks and
those 2 fierce shinning sharpest
spheres of green languid violent puddles
(of your eyes dear)
across from me spent into
the daft shaven molecule
of my stingingonyourbreasts head
a lean sensual evening
and you let me put my hand
up your skirt in that
stuffy cafe littlest cramped space
in the corner(in a secret tight space)
you let me purr wetness into
your softly cloven pile
andbut we just went on talking like i wasn't

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    )

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

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                                          .

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

by whyly
you stand
a Woman
i love
in the nearness
of your eyes
the room catches
a fleck
of brilliance
and the color
of your soul
bREATHES

O Milk
in whose
white blood
a fingers full

thick and
brutish

running curls
against
tight buzz

it mouths
unquietly

a tongue split
in twaining
cream
lapping the lips

on a stomach
convulsion kissed

bead by running
sweat pools

opens its throat
and
screams

amiably staggers
with neon a street
diminutively
creased with
laughter
and the common
blood of youth
whose vague
aptitude for
lust is always

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

sum or is or body fair?
the dawn which marks with crimson
the light which trills or hair

                                                 ?


loose or hangs by easily does
such clatter and or slop
(legs unmeet; a trollop)
or string that cherries pop


sum or is or *** wit lips?
lush with tearful smaking?


or is it honey that which drips?

sitting pale breasted
lipped in certain
opaque girlness
hangs by mortal
froth hair darkly
a thousand thick
and brutal firm

(a table usually
hangs over) thighs
brushed gently
akimbo lengths
of drooling ***
unmeet slowly
(while you
pretend to eat)
and laughing
divides rapidly
your cheeks
blundering with
crimson by wetly
fingers consumed

i love you there is
something undark

more

unseemingly possible
to speak which
makes your soul–

it the
noose which
hangs by all the nights and days

to be rough
to be wholly of
hard and unhard made;

it want it to touch
(as inside touches)

each small and trembling
****** of me;

and i want it to feel
(as valkyries feel)

hurt beautiful ugly and strong.

"Nobody will ever really love you,
because people really only love
themselves."

.












































                                                                    destroy what you love




























































­.

"Because nobody really loves anyone.

       We love the idea of the person.

                        The actual person

                                  just gets

                                     in the

                                       wa

                                        y

                                          ."

i shall love you
that you have been
after my own heart
as the tatse of the sea:

easy and deep beyond words;

laughing in shoals and
turgid in memory.

you are light
and beyond most things
you are the smooth
incomparable
disaster of 23 years
of screaming girlness.

you are my own,
and my flesh–
you make me.

my wife,

you are my flesh,
within your flesh:


            (my son)

who sleeps within you.

i love you that you are me,
and i am you;
inside your body
which sleeps beside me.

cometogether
fal
la

p

a


r





t

hand which by is felt the stem
is set crimson at thorned *****
red so like the rose suddenly at
lips gleaming supping feverishly
at pains sorest pleasure(the palm
who riven draws even deeper the
pointed inch of agony to bone fine
white as a silk worm skin) like a
lily stupid with *** the comparable
hurt of which a hand that likes to
bleed

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

i wonder what death i'll wear when the soft scalpel of flaying darkness visits the veneer of my stocky bones. i maybe think i'll touch the vale and tear an onyx breath by cleverly decaying lungs, who by swift retracting fascia i'm a pulsing ***** of health. We'll all go there, lay in her soil bed, and unmotion unfinite..
                                            .

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

forever

in the habit

of perfection

taste feels to reach to
tongue
deeply between kiss

      (lipsnotlips)

where least sleeps spring
and calls by mouth

your hips to sing,

                              ,

                              ,

                              ,

                              .

"I don't know how much longer I can do this."

**** what it's so you're

you're so


                        ****


and pretty
in shoulders

around a chest
where
(so nicely flutters)

youth

(and over it
are
your
****                     )

its throat is very

(the night)

whose fingers deeply grouse
in such blue as silken eve
the whole stack
of enduring
city

roar
and speckled
by the quiet of an alleyway
drenched in stillness whitely

stealing sudden magically
into a tightest yearning swallow

(feels as does and such as when
i think to think

i think as when
in Summer balmy please
skin to stick to skin

a flower just
its fullness to erode
the fever of its pollen

distilled erectly kissing
one unblemished lips

of night who when did
Grousing so bluely
its fingers                     )

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

down the ups of the very backs of streets
just skirting the very edges of napes
the cities slightly tickled little hairs rushing
up it's thighs, colluding thickly bushy
barely about it's "ooch!" it's "ow!"
it's youth rimmed slouching pocket
hollow fully bursting. empty so crowding
tightly packed cheeks, clumps of giddy
gurgling songs pumped lazy chords
they sickly punch the nooks and crannied
edges flourishing the rainbow bright
chatter of lungs that taste the air so
healthy and so long. "Tonight, as the day
goes 'Wee!' over the ******* wallop
we"ll higgle wiggle in it's corpse
our skulls and merry bones to
frothing jowls overwhelmed with boisterous
young hearts supping it's crudlicious
pillow, supple and rotting gums
the large lit teeth of whom bust
right to heaven while we fling about
their oblong towers our shales
of *** and magic;

when i the you sweetly
sublime of
knees fleeting intensely

kiss inwardly
the entering sound

You
the perhaps exactly
shed a sliver of teeth

by catching skin
gag
upon a sliver
of ***** shyness

and seem feel
the arms by
youth hard

hands

crimped skinny hot
vulnerable teasing
to swallow

miles away(go)
by

clicktrain by

     clacktrain or

bybusby or

        car


miles away(go)
where between
a city of roses grows

One thornless rose)its
stemwhich
thoughthornless
hurts to feel fingers

somewhere (
quietly)
there is a suicide,

the doors won't open,

and everywhere

it is raining.

Of how i am being
beginned
by the whorled blood
and the expressed chamber

i sit, kneel and walk
supposing upon earth
the each of my feet;

my hands kneed and fold--
i collect in them bodies of my children:
sleeping, awake, crying, laughing;

i collect in them bodies of things
unminded and minded alike;

i collect in them the sheaf
of spent grasses:
the hull of them
containing the celled
phantasm of God's breath.

i linger and i am not myself;
i stand before wall
and my gaze becomes fuzzed,
unfocused--and i wonder.

i touch and am known by my hands.

the things touched,
too,
are known
(perhaps)
by me,

in the quiet between
my buzzed flesh
and the smooth rudeness
of the thing.

i handle and am handled
by my loverwife,

(the coarse cutting
of her fine hip
hair is a needle

split

over the nerves
of my caress--

it electrifies--

and i am stolen
between the fibers.)

i am alive,
and how should I know it?

imaketherainwalksoverthebackofmyearsandIsigh:

"Good Bye"

in such in was springtime (hollyhock and thistle) girls and boys went nudely up their downs, into crystal waters of crisply straying health (when all noontide swung wide its gabled darkness hutch) and boysandgirls (in holly) went winter in its touch.

niTe?

do stars hang from you nimbly

dancing in breezes shook the

apple heavy bent boughs of

laughing gargantuan trees

                                            nite you are first me

                                            and secondly

                                            you are quivering with intense

                                            feverish quips of ladies

                                            so thick and exacting legs

                                            are completely tumbled open

                                            waxy perfect thighs

                                                                             (you are skinny limped

                                                                              skirts of light

                                                                              about the hair of forests

                                                                              you cavort with

                                                                              ***** sighs

                                                                              and you are so

                                                                              indescribably still

                                                                              even on balmy summer nights in the moment of an hour you are a park filled with me

and going about the beauty of your small adept

cheeks i do the terrifically kissing thing

and i love you

)

writing–i'm not sure–
maybe this
or that,

to fill perhaps;
between which nothing
is but pale.

some girls are like
the uncoming together
of deep mountains

(there are where

occaissionly it's been


flowers.          ) their hips



that part

at the parting

of boy ribs—




.

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

.

who again is this place?

(i see you there--alive and sleeping;
amongst white flowers)

i kiss you lightly.

i am sorry for all the things i have done.

i will love you always.

goodnight.