how dose you think a day begins? its little teeth smally thin (as grass between) the throats of men?
does you think it green as blades of thinness wide ,sprouted mutely?
does you go out to fields and collect it? in your hands do it shake and quivers? (does you bring it up to your mouth, and does you kiss it? entering the thick copseness of your pallet?)
who many days you been in hurt verdant roughness of coarse forests? (you been amongst em sleeping the hot hair is full of drowsy longness and your muscles slackly follow into deeep chambers of distilled nuthing?
you been out back? by the glade brush and the doe mouths are white with steep petals of lingering health?
"take itup your mouth," goes the drawn trees, drawing even deeplyer into the quant tussle of wakeless hours where a twitch don't and not even a cat.
)the forest goes and does you ever think how those thighs combed with coarse wreaking of bleeding youth tasted like copper tastes hot at your tongue climbing your whole mouth into its neat dumbness?
(the Summers there are millions of Summers left and does you think how