melancholy blanketed the whites
scarred voices muffled by
a ****** mind.
an avalanche stuck in my soul
severer than a bee at a forked road
   how confused!

red-cheeked petals and afternoon birds glare
    in confusions at the footsteps :
unbalance, shaded, muted!
the green umbrella's warm, so scorchingly cold!
all embittered, by solemn beams of the soulless sun.
     their eyes widen,
     for they had never seen such lone,
for such lone, rare, is forbid to the sons of nature,
never belong to happy child's arms,
that dreams in a mother's charm.

grieving droughts in the air and grass,
no dews, why!,
   yawned the madden, soporific rabbit
Ah, so wild.

the windless noontime cross, my quivers stopped, mild.
lashes waxed, blacken like a coal,
  mind stuck in a haze, or maybe a threatening maze.

stiffness of the air injected to my nostrils
into my white tongue they will soak, like perfumes to a clothe.
Selene will gaze angrily at this and say,
      why no, it shouldn't be in there!
the midnight orchids waver and frown.

soon the frothing dreams peter,
but the bolded letters in a white board stay,
my chair stays.

creaks of an abominable burden became a din.
The smudges of grey-white dust I smelt
hover gaily in the air of pompous breath.
    spellbound by the stagnant languor,
mazy, in hallucinations of the heat and homesick.
    I sought the fount of hypocrisy and vile,
my hiding nonchalances rosen
(towards a flock of friends)
and loathes to an abominable sun frozen
(I wished it to die!)

Tilted to the windows,
I saw nothing, but fatal secrets of a heart rosed
like window dust to a nose.

If I touch your rosen cheek,
if I pour your golden hair
upon my face to bury it in
brilliant glow, if I place the lips
of yours upon my own and
leave them there forevermore,
if I press my finger now to
your neck of silk to begin
an endless journey down your side
unbridling all to bare beauty
to behold, if I told you what I
see, if I told how it makes me feel,
you would think me crazed and
amazingly your thoughts be true,
so lean your head on pillow blue
and I shall make love to all of you,
then afterwards again and again.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

If I touch your rosen cheek,
if I pour your golden hair
upon my face to bury it in
brilliant glow, if I place the lips
of yours upon my own and
leave them there forevermore,
if I press my finger now to
your neck of silk, to begin an
endless journey down your side
unbridling all to bare beauty
to behold, if I told you what I
see, if I told how it made me feel,
you would think me crazed and
amazingly your thoughts be true,
so lean your head on pillow blue
and I shall make love to all of you,
then afterwards again and again.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS