i will die.
the sun,
and by the way
did you know?
(i do)

in the summer it
leaps wholly freshness
into the sweating backs of knees

a yowl


a dream


a distinctly arousing



a corded and steeply ***** shyness.


it peters sharply
from girl cuts
into niceness
a cringing of night
to less darkly foil
the trees

(amongst 'em
where will sleep
me when i
cease my hands to try) roots


reachness of worms
and the rushing of oceans

wind

wind

wind


coolly teasing
with teeth so
cruelly pleasing

(upon which rise
the curving hushness
of body's plummet
isthe
falling of darkness' lushness