smoke no ****
snort no *******
and let human emotions ******* up

“black velvet
Petunia,
coming of age.
Early-blooming
Petals spread eagle
on the bed.”
|| shoo.shu ||

From the ceiling to the floor
You're everywhere
Don't know why but I breathe you in
It reminds me you never left

My mind give in
Every time I think of you
How you keep me safe and warm
Even when I'm alone

You're on my mind
Cause my heart lost all its control
Feels like you're always around
Next to me surrounding me


Every second I'm without you
I pretend we're skin to skin
No skin, no heart, no touch
Can get me enough

No kiss, no lips, no rush
I swear no one can keep me high
You've released my darkest sin
Without breaking me down

I don't know what it is
But you've pulled me in
No one compares
Don't want anything else but you

You say that I'm your universe,
but I am only shattered stars.

My world imploded on itself,
leaving shards,
Of planets and galaxies
sticking out of my skin,

And the blood from my wounds run red,
inspiring you to call me your rose.

i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body.  i like what it does,
i like its hows.  i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones,and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the,shocking fuzz
of your electric furr,and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh….And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you so quite new

my love
thy hair is one kingdom
  the king whereof is darkness
thy forehead is a flight of flowers

thy head is a quick forest
  filled with sleeping birds
thy ******* are swarms of white bees
  upon the bough of thy body
thy body to me is April
in whose armpits is the approach of spring

thy thighs are white horses yoked to a chariot
  of kings
they are the striking of a good minstrel
between them is always a pleasant song

my love
thy head is a casket
  of the cool jewel of thy mind
the hair of thy head is one warrior
  innocent of defeat
thy hair upon thy shoulders is an army
  with victory and with trumpets

thy legs are the trees of dreaming
whose fruit is the very eatage of forgetfulness

thy lips are satraps in scarlet
  in whose kiss is the combinings of kings
thy wrists
are holy
  which are the keepers of the keys of thy blood
thy feet upon thy ankles are flowers in vases
  of silver

in thy beauty is the dilemma of flutes

  thy eyes are the betrayal
of bells comprehended through incense