Dawn, at thy navel lies the errant fuzz of mountains
rough, slight, sulking shoulders  awash
                                                                ­         in thy muted crush
of swollen light cambered at the
waist and smeared with the
lumbering hulk of jasmine

ope n al l t h e smal lt hin gs (between)
th ei rmiddle s i swri th e ge n tl         y
m yst er y (that which tiny wanders
awe) brigh tfast bl indl ingly w i t h e r s

                   faceshands

into dust stumbling minutely though
g   r   a    s  p in ga nd b    i   t  i n       g
so open all the small things (boys and
girls open them they have empty which
like you have and faster more colorful
nothing they) s                                        o
open all the small things boysandgirls
spilling from them running rivers of
poppies splayed out in raw pallid eve
rushing through cambered fragility
(that instantly with precise mess flair
with the curving orange of death       )

asoftquietafore;
                                 B OO   M!
grunting swirl. the speakers speak intangible friction
who's so slightly an empirical fever
nursing gratuitously the male flavors encumbering
the ego flecked freckles *** lisping
    elegantly cambered waists                shrines of molten ecstasy
but my lady niggles sporadic splinters in my sheath
and i
             splay the courageous night
                                                               and penetrate her plaintive giggle
andrideayellowbuckingmetal
to her supreme station
                                        and palm her credibly
with every effect of my huddled fibers

                where she is gently wet      
a winsome hollow
                                  in where
   is

                           springhotlycaked     light boisterously exploding
and a pink breaking every other colour
   i slave mightily to it's hairless stubble and i stumble
rightly dumb
                            at her close cut whisper
slanting ardently a moist bolt of night
                     aggressively passive
                                                               and patient
she cups my puddle
                       and
                    with
                      lips
                   purely dirt
                 she scrapes me   perfect

December, December
Now, I remember
You're the annual pilgrimage
On a road steeply cambered

by keen edged light do slice and fray the knotted chord of sanity
shed miraculous logic
for 2 bold fantasy, thy fancy of bulging rainbows,  a serrated pillar
of luminous children
midnight is a laughing thing, a great greeting lassitude, as carefully
collapses silken hair
for who's art i slaughter apprehensively motion, becoming prone
a receptive son             of the calming burst of gleaming fur
i stoke repetitiously the cambered vertebrae of fire
and by fingered velocity i stroke about the brash sliver of hair
  bashing aggressively from thy stupor of unclad flesh(a bastion
slight fragranced as aphrodite, the hollow of thy lip brimming
incandescent droplet

     a treat
                    i thee
                                oral
)...!

& what are you?
                         you; are

           the
                      naked saturday
sweaty hills neatly on your
skin. thou art:

        the rain

damply kissing a thousand times
my neck. you are the supple stocks

         the roots               ;                  the petals

you are a fountain of stunning music lashing
crimson fists on my and you are a flock
of                            muscles            rightly.

          or

you are the splinter of *** in a nocturne moon plated
demurely akimbo. you are thee. you are the
contraction of my fibers in the ecstasy of
                 wet
                        summer
                                     lips) the crescent of heaven
and you are
                        eht
. fragility of life in a manifesto of pleasure.
                        are you are the lucid abstraction of
beauty. aphrodite Fleshed in the sinew of reality. cambered in the
pasture    my hands.
      you                             are

                                                       YoU
arE.             m

                             I

              n

                                            E

patient violence: wait at the breach
i'll let you captivate my sinew
when the bell tolls. resounding
activation; articulate fists dapple
cambered flesh

kiss pretty ugly knuckles
love the pain shower
b            u                t
so it tolls again
the exact ring of rest
calls to my hands
"steady breathes now,
in this minute"

i await it's summons to
birth
           purple
                         blossoms

in so night pert stings of

           (pouting *******)

where laid a finger's boy
(his whole)
trembles nothing
quivers on the aching crush
of finest ribs
     just

spindles hardly distend
in cambered hush

impatient, smiles

slee  ep.  .   .

              
                though

             you
                   are

                           awake


i am alive in you;


      (in thy body–

          and amongst thy leaves

            i am naked and fragrant )



i am touching the cool spine
and the cambered wrist;
lightly mute, **** and bruised
with dark veins.

your cheeks are pale;
your eyes are soft–
hugely brimming
with neat darkness.

you come over the mouth.
you hold the breath
between delicate fingers.

you are nearly kissing,
each nearly moment of body.

you move with quick slowness:
never rushing,
never uncarefully treading.


((s l ee p..   .

though

         you are alive;


i am awake in you.

                                       )

                                       )

.                                                                        like stars

                                                                         first nubile pins against darkness

                                                                         subtly quavering against darkness

                                                                         i tread amongst your hair over

                                                                         mountains i quickly unsheathe

                                                                         my soul and touch, by lewd drunk

                                                                         fingers, just the canny ribbons

                                                                         of your spine and cambered

                                                                         in my palm it does exactly the

                                                                         very painful beauty thing

The welcome sun gilded, the mighty seven mountain peaks
As fingers adorned with rings, they lay aloft our eyes
Beneath our feet, the silent sleeping snowy snake
Conquered on the kiss of cold, a cambered frozen line.

The eternal night of valour, written in silver past
Still shining in the faces of unshuffled uniforms of bravery
Twenty daring sons of motherland, in the ticking clock of darkness
On the giddy throng of foes, fallen lightning strokes.

Time was what they need, till the distant succour
They fought an infinite war, fringing their martyrdom
Until the land kisses, the unclouded moment of victory
For the present cradles to sing, made their last salute.

of a body
being 2
bodies:

you are my love.

the wifeblood
and the childheart—
beats within you,
and sumways,
being the hollow place
from where all life pours.

and if anything is sacred
your hips are sacred:
the cambered holsters
of my sleeping children.

you are brazier,
forward carried,
into largest darkness.

the light whose,
consumed nearly,
rages in the face
of blackness.

(i love you in the flesh of my palms;
their meat holding somewhat of your
glowing warmth.

i love you in the apple
of my closed chest;
opened only at
the brush of your laughter.)

My Wife,
being my hull,
and the body
of my 2 bodies,

I love you.