This northern chill is freezing me
To mine marrow
I needeth seraphim blanket
To covereth me as a sparrow

I'm shaking from the frost
Tis its mid June
I seeketh all affection
For one to lock me in her room

Tighten me in her tomb
And throw away ourn route
So noone shalt find us
No worrying nor doubt

I needeth her satellite coverlet
To play ourn kiddish games
Under ourn window pane
****** carnalism smoothed in febrile roulette

To be invisible to the other's
Just ourn own come-hither now
Naughtily ****
Bodie's blast off by sonic sound....