i know you rosy cheeks(
             you are lips pretty)andheadbobbing
                                           (you look like sweetness
                                              )when you're between
                                                thigh and thigh
                                                     (those pursed creases        usually
                                          ­             )they twained and culling
                                                         ­        (are heaven writhing
                                                        ­                 )tongues and bones
                                                           ­                     (so let me crawl inside you
                                                             ­                       )andIpromise
                             ­                                                         (we'll fall right up in2 1

i liked the night
         a morsel of arguing light
     with the morose chimney stacks
and gratuitous roofs
they wetted with creamy distilled lunar ****
and whisper beveled nothings
at the screaming silence


  !

i like words and you are 1,
you are a word that has
pristine calves, marble thighs,
and **** like arrows

your word is slight, it has
cheeks peppered in crimson
'gainst my palm, your word
fits nicely in my lips

it is a little bit tan, and grins
when i fumble over it my
mouth trying to say your

word

i'll go almost creeping things

              and they'll be me

creep creeping rows of tiny
raising bumps(thoselittle
hairs climbing down your
tummy(almost no see 'em
hairs)but they catch softly
light in their trembling bodies
under my breathing breaths
(from the same mouth
                                tremendously
from that 1 mouth
                                 tremulously)

scoring twixt bunched petals
it creeps a hot gushing pallor

i,m electric. its, the pisshard light
crapping ugly vowels off the bulbs
on the stree tonthestreet spitting webs
of iridescent ridiculous tubercular scarlet
folds of loose legs
akimbo receptive culling frilly cotton
nets
about their thighs. their thighs crying
white dark femurs
blasting hot
on my i's. on my eyes. on my
   punch heavy brooding crumble
slashing the serious night air nightmare
night blaring
                        neon daughters
dna
         in little flecks
some cordial bums; laugh ******* nonsense
birds. they're a bottle away. a bottle away
a oblivion. sip sip. drink your soul away
     and rude the clean folks
passing on the asphalt rivers
   veining in the cold hot bright darkness

in a biggest deepness
there's was 1 golden chord
small and
                   ENORMOUSly a heart POUNDING NAKED extrapolating

harshly a beating volume of sOUnd! fat on the skinny darkness

                                             A
                                             N
                                             D
this iSwill drunk of ragged ****** a caving silence in which is a scrap of



























                                                 ,
                                                 ;
                                                 '
                                                 .
                                                 i

in dawn there's brightest whitely
drawn darkest from corners
it pulls tightly at one fat hard
point
and over mountains brinded
sleeping
                 it
                        explodes

i need:

you
are
what

i never was a star
nor fell
nor in your eye
did a glimmer of me
gleam
               yet

i loved thee
O and how i did
i loved thee so
like because April rain

loves the skin of just flowers
hardly stems
with green and aching verdant
murdered night

where supremely reigns the
coy hush of shook heavens
purpled tears

O i, who loved you, did
like that improbably
like
next to a river
where you sat
wide perfect nose
bent 'pon the distillation
of a rose

who like you
beautiful
crimson lipped
bore a snare
on which wells
the split flesh of my palm
also

              crimson rain

in god played undeath skips wildly disintegrating
tulips
           sighing from the curtain of stars
hung loose
                    and laughing indescribably
immortal, f
      o
          r
               tuitous   of immobile light: a coma

from within belches the overlong trench of mucous silky
  a
n              d                             festering.    in my mortal stillness
clasp the cold birds of winter, wings magistrating the currents
of first frost and

               L
                i
            E

injust(ladies

,so wet ladies,

summer you are almost naked

and dance beneath feat

the cherry knives o’ you

cut sweetly in me

and every hot root

is such deeply splayed

thighs i marvel into

them and s

                 i

              g

                    h

(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

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

i note the (needle loved) slender limbed crooks
                                              of
fresh cut stems loitering. by the stone towers.

black rivered arms of elbows in grass puddles
giggle lipped they ***** smiles; fill the greedy
hearts an ember of false heat to glow numbly
the fire sticks smokey breathe exhaled suddenly

gather to their lush valleys the wagging tongues
of all the pretend men. who are naught but boys
in the pink *** light that streams from dainty *******

so glad am i no longer slaved to that heed. and find my
mind in soft palm of my                                        waiting
                                                          lady

it's there. inside you. such beauty. find its handles. grasp.

in so was i) a clean frost winter
a tight bud unopened in the
frozen fragrant fingers of the cold season

              but

came the spring of heavy light woman
feather loved lady whisper me a kiss
and

                                              BLOOM

my petals to her new sun. a

when the shift of warm came bubbling wet
i had never been so unclosed
open every
with
make me naked

in summers fist winters come
(a daughter
    )
day and frost together
(her croup languid
***** heavy cherries
)******* beautifully
freckled darlings

(with downy and petals
freezing
)her thighs run thick and
perfect
laying fingers between
those fullest
(fat fingers lazily)
autumn tickles

thronging innumerable
crunching death
(between her *******
)lays dust and fancy
juice and coffee

but she don't care
she'll **** him pretty
that season brightest
loves getting dead
between those thighs

us clambering)
                                                     ­                                o(     throats
                                                         ­                             i     pillars of salt
                           upward                                              c   looking back
                     ing              voices                                  a    a flower
                l,l                                sprung ­                  r       in the barren
             a                                              almost     of          soil
when f                                                       clean              shouted
                                      ­                                                             a most
                                                            ­                                           a violet
                                                          ­                                                  a violent
                                                         ­                                 staccato colour
                                                   from
                                                            ­     its
                                                             ­         sepulcher
                                                                ­                    of primless
                                                                ­                                  error
                         ­                                                                 ­             smashing
            groomed
                         unhard
                                  petals
and

in the twain o' nite and morn
stirs the bright crepitus
o' your illuminate
joints and
the arcuate
motes of sleeping
curves enter my body
the smallest and loveliest
fingers painting silence
shivering 'neath the
loaded quiver o'
your mouth's
prime jewel,
those lashes
startling the
organized clot
of stifled air in
the certain pocket
of my uglywithoutyou
room, and the beauty drunk
and darkness fleeced marble
of your kisslonging head peaks
out suddenly crawling the lonely
chasm between our lips and crushes
absolute sexluscious ribbons pink set
onto my own vein penultimate lips and,
                                                            ­       '
                                                               ­       '
                                                        ­           '
                                                               ­        '
                                                               ­    '
                                                               ­        '
                                                               ­ ,

Into with,
my ***** of sated flesh(
your smallest mossy soil...

            I AM


DEepLy,  raw
a rough new pinkness
tingling steady burstsinthegrosspavillion
,of thy beat,
a fresh hot                


                                       noise

in very we
                   blinded steeply darkness
   a dullest fire clangs
                   at the promise of my heart
  i did break you
                           sorely

in your body(nexttomine)is a small electricity
tingling directly against my skin freshly glued
so bones velvetly lavished in groping cuddles
of perhaps hands. a sort of like the sky is puddles
of kissing faces excellently. and the world in
flowers snugly fits between womb and soil. where
i will say life briefly in your tiniest mouth,
                                                                          .

                                                                          '



                                                                           .










                                                                               ,

i often, longingly, of your striving pinkest
lips do eat by my own lips curling with
them into a neat pile of tremendous ***

i often, strivingly, long to eat, of your chests
pale basin, the apt fruit of your *******
i, longing, and strive with the savage
electric lash of thy fragrant throat

i dance and marvel at your feeling
my chest hands
                             i drink of them
and i'm etherised smoothly at
their hot rumple of my skin

and i you just can't barely

for thou art the dripping
rill of Cupid's apt *****

thou art, between darkness
and light, abruptly hung
with my flesh (from which
is sated thy lustful flowers
perfectly glistening petals
'neath me and groaning)

i recall: (with some clarity(
a day spread with hot hours
testing the cool root of light
bursting forth the summation of
an instant stretched into
infinite chaste shade) but
however thus
an apple blossom hung
heavy on knowledge)

i hope the suns
challenge to my pallid construct
doesn't engender
a sense of
red

i say awe

                            and i say wonder

      i say whole mountains

o' fairies and clouds

  i say magic sprouting
between fingers splayed
o'er hot skin sweating
beads of sweating
little snaking streams of sweating

i sweet and kiss them
i tousle and drink them
i drink day and night
i drink fire and dirt
i'm their body

so darling dear
(dear darling so
sweating dear)
let me sprinkle you
beauty (i'll grow
a forest o' lips on
your *******)with
glitter and health

i'll stoke you purr gently
stroking dear i'll **** you
with me i'll just make y o   u,
                                              '
                                                    ,

                                        .

i see i
seeing i
seeing me
my sight sees my me
being me sighting in on i

huh
sure
what

_rapture(

soft islands
in pale ocean

your pink trees

tastesogood

shudder

i
so
me t
imes
see in
those t
ranspar
ent eaves
the quick b
lack forest
of the panele
ss leaves the h
ithering blata
nt brains scurry
to and fro and fro a
nd too" their marki
ng frailing whizzin
g forth to which heaven
gabled songs the limp s
aints court and snuggle
gregariously the foiste
d girth of the black quick t
rees in there in their unrem
arkably souls i,ve watched t
hem go back and forth and forth
and black lithe brooding reams
of slow wood in them, there their
  i'm starting to wear wear wearing

i
sweetlycrimson those
             c
            h
              e
            e
              k
            s
of a porcelain daughter
              h
               a
              n
               g
               i
               n
             g
in the splendored languor
  of a sugar light
dusting her
  with a powdered kiss
exact t
         e
       a
          r
s
rivulet down her soft landscape
           i give my
sinew strewn arms to a clutch
about her gentle a
                                 r
                                   c
                                  s
as her quavering tremble
gasps

a

broken

i swiftly, will into casually skies, wade fire into them and they alight on me cut like
sharp little eyes those heavens got such brusquely painted vaults all blue and slightly
they swim with whiteness in them are so puffed and drifting lazily on copper swooping
twilight they become a bit usual. but i comfortable and dauntless sleep in their heart, my blood ,
crinkles on the waxing moon's lustrous ***** (and it does roll crimson beads down through
each marvelous breast to upon her belly and becomes a singing bird of autumn and it dies

it all begins in a hand in a hand
loose
        ,
easy with

fingers and tipped

with jade, vermillion or,
black because.

                            in

a hand easy
a hand feels small soft
and it's comfortable to grip
being soft and small and tipped
with vermillion, jade or, black because.

smooth, pretty, and it feels really good
between two layers of cotton skin that's
got a coupling of scars, ink, and the nicest

****
sharp with pink
in hands
feels really good
and it always begins


                                                   like that

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

it emits a curious colour when i am summer
(a curiously on edge colour)
when nights of me are balmy
and thick with viscous laughing
smoke between the necks of ladies
such musically ivory necks of ladies

a colour
               (curiously) when
is Summer me? rests upon the
napes of trees in parks
where dirt and goldest
crush of dawn collide
with unmuscled violence

(this colour is me totally
ambiguous
                     and clear as
the rain dropless eaves of
heaven which are so ****
before the body of her
husband (the sun) who
in those mornings warmly
comes to her and penetrates
her smoothly scratching
the heaped body of the earth)

In summer curious,
colours are me
eyes, nose, knees, and hair
all hued
and erupting
gallons of fresh colour
and wade out into Summer
deep thighs burning cut by
the sharp petals of daffodils
and tulips.  i set running hot
colours from each razored
hewing of my skin and fall
upward into gabled satisfied
skies forever

it fondles
                   the marble rubber
of tissue sublime
                   a marked indifference
to tempts of sighing inclement
                    vociferous ******
comes a bastion of mortal tempest
                     anon thou only quickest
steam

it gave the impression: sudden aggressive
butterfly booming iridescent fluttering river
rainbow raw god rough glittering eye lids
hot tremoring air. constant blaring.

drown drown lovely staccato cacophony
beat swirling violence electric ***
rains off sudor soaked cotton skinned
burnished bodies ill-lucid contracting
senseless sensual pit decadent children

                 (in all this sticky love: truth is cleanly executed)

when

ithink

on that idea
that is
me

i

question its
validity

i think: come(unthink)music
carelessmusic softly lilting the
swept downy fiber, falling, flakes
come steeply, arrive on comely ears,
the nuisance of thy waft gentle exactly
and the bodies

                                    fay

met of muscles many in sweetness
honey one, long strain of thy cords
envelopes the snug sound of your
kiss

                              daft

as a raspberry pursed between
lips, fruitmouth,

your fragrant
hand is the most articulate violence

           the most unthink

                            music

the most ear full cringe of lewdness
(dear, the smart vastness of your
naked sigh is a murdering song
comes from paired lips, and single throat

         annihilator sound

         I

think:

           unthink
                           .
                              come

i think i am some dust briefly flush with life who grates every moment by passing grains of limpid time and unbecomes in sheafs of days

i think. i think the trees are thinking.
i think
     the
tre
        es
   a
   R
e      thinking        

                                      OCTOBER
                                       ?

they say death. and they wear it. and they ware it.

                 and.

it's yellow talking on the gnarled limpets breathing
from their bruising trunks. suckling my apt pupils
         discharging lovely decay in my small
pocket of teeth and thoughts and veins. they,re an ******
   of crunching golden mort
  i walk through its delicious corpse
       and i take her.
      i take here. this is:

                YES

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 think when i die i will be a forest
in who shall be does and fauns
pretty and glad in sunshine oh
yes sunshine will be there and
it will always smell like right after it
rains cooly on hot asphalt like
it smells like when you come into
a room i think when i die i shall
be a star flecked with innumerable
other stars on slick neat necked
night's pursed lips all pinched and
sticky with unyoung youth and
anciently when i die i think i will
be an ocean where will sleep mermaids
in pearl white skin and fishes and
a somehow little city in a nice little
dome where they will play music
such music as you would want to
listen to when you're sad because it
will always cheer you up and like
ee said to me one night when i was
reading him in my bed he said "it is
funny that you will be dead someday."
and i knew it right then that i think
when i die i will be a forest

i think with a sometimes smile
meanders playfully filling the
erudite sphere comically of my
face digs with a small gape a
mouth where my voice comes
from in a slight eager wiggle

         out on the air

it just comes and i can't stop how
it wants to say something that
of a new wholly unbelievable
incredibly unviolent softnot sharp
aching to touch somebody else
throat with small noose of muscles
rollicking with the small snow
of your fingertips hulking gorgeous
and barely

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
                                                           ­                                                 )

it must be a *****
(waiting on Railroad
  )for a candy and some
sugar waiting
for the
elated drop of sublime
queasy night
to squeeze her cold
*** between the eyes
of men
(who might like socks
                                       wear her for while
                                                           ­               and grin doing) they might deliver
                                                         ­                                              a little jangle and
                                                             ­                                          noose to hang her
                                                             ­                                          mind dangling
                                                        ­                                               between the buds
                                                            ­                                           of poppies or a
                                                               ­                                        a hot oblong glass rock ******>                                                             ­                                                                 ­                           K
                                                               ­                                                                 ­                              i
                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                         n
                                                               ­                                                                 ­                                g

i
tonight he
ard t
he
whole increasing
churn of asleep
moon light
profess
*******, a pair
of giggling
gorgeous effluent
skinny skin

and peaked mounting
each lush pale
drop of flesh
a pinkest isle
dithered and

cooed a string
of pleasant
sharp rasps
of whitish
light

   (the moon like
like honey drips
the whole sky fantastic
and carnal with
the imploding bulge
of her Winter
set ****
        ).

it,s cold. the feathersofearth. generous
soil. raw roar son. you were the first.
    i was and also.
i was the last. more acutely the chattering of teeth.
do sound a bit ok. but i don't loveit;

what a lovely box. piney naught. smooth wood supple rectangle.
she will rest. it,s the sound of jets. cut the timid ministers voice.

     i      did         know                you. yet not;

still, for thee, a tear. i do shed. go to the quiet. maybe we,ll meet again

    some

it's naked how in June
(hot uncluttered flesh)
by lips and parting

                                    do caress

with careful splitting
and agile mess
unsaintly contents

                       ,             wriggling
  ,       spilled adolescent
bodies filled
              in eager sating
                            days were killed
                  and the arcuate pleasure of
           thighs and *******
       tongues between
     cotton dress
    spiced and
   folding
  ******* fret
  at mangled balling
  upon lewd dashboard kept

it: spring, Tokyo you, by my hip flowered
briefly a thousand, pink petals, slippery
beneath sole the exact strange neon of
lights bore swiftly under darkness our
bodies lightly, into each others, wiggle
heavy lips, and between they(pinkpetals
                                                             slippery)

it's was summer last night
unfolding silver cold pinpricks
       who's wings yawn incredibly
from the tender bruise of moonlight where we
were two 2's
basking indelibly straight lanky souls

           and we touched