a dream is big in you reeling through young arms stabbing
(by able blades of deft hands)
the night


                     a rose


of the magic distillation released
shifting 'pon the wind
trembles not a clove
but sand 'neath feet
is unsturdy moving
out to sea a moon
is larger than anything else
hanging by some cord invisible
and a lark cringing on the air divisible:





chirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchir­pchirpchirp
chirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchi­rpchirpchirpchirp
chirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpch­irpchirpchirpchirpchirp
chirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpc­hirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirp
chirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirp­chirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirp
chirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchir­pchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirp
chirpchirpchirpchirpchi­rpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirp
chirpchirpchirpch­irpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirp
chirpchirpc­hirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirp
chirp­chirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirp­
chirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchir­pchirp

**** so little tremble(littletremblingthing)
you rough prickle, 'gainst my lips prickle
your day old stubble(idon'tcareifithurts
abit)and deeper digging mouth does
and those tiny splinters(asyousprout
yourentirelyquakingbody)get so
snugly piercing my skin i (but i didn't
care a bit even if they rip it clean from
my cheeks; those minute spears of yours
)pressing steeply even further i do
to get your fiercely pleasant muscles
up 2 1 startled splendor
(when you open sharply and cave out
one stifled ROAR,

speak me young
the ***, your mouth
in clovers hot

transcending bond of mortal rot

('tsstupid your
   the mouth
   and swollowed
   tighly
   throat               )


lift, cleaving
petals of neatest night

carry to heaven(oh and

YES
when your hands
quickly
wig my
burning ******          )the( i'm

fist the
kitty
yer
smell very erectly  ) coffin


       'o mundane plight
( i'll push between yer stocks
         a
   *****
        like
      they
        'llpush
          a
      *****
    'tween the dirt
where yer'll sleepin'

              lay                   )

i can hear the old body of a cat creaking between my ears the rushing of the wind outside is enormously pale breasted i cup myself into a fist of warm andream of almost you nearly more than farther are i put my leg over a pillow the tension in my hips release remembering a pillow used to be your hips my hips tension



Releasing

come laughing sun
(the earth likes you

             thighs akimbo

it pulls down hotly on
it)
                 into it

the earth and sun
       they are like for restless
             lovers they tussle
                         and ****
                                 those 2 tongues
mingle and bind
   my body and me
      1 to the other
        (like the earth on sun
         )but nights pretty 2
                                            2
                                  Pretty night
                       sometimes U got me
                        wanting you got me
                          (and i do))iwantyou)cuz you're so deep and speckled glimmering
                                                               (and in your chest you've got
                                                                that one enormous bobble
                                                                so lush and radiant it pulls
                                                                my cheeks leaping
                                                                up to meet its softly
                                                                and every all of me
                                                                shatters smoothly set
                                                                forever in its boughs)

(and i am more beautiful than dying is forever. i am like impossible unbroken light. in the moon and O,
                                                                                                                                                                                .
                        
                                                                                                                                                                                      '
                                                                                                                          


                                                                                                                                                                      !)

hollow hallow
colours
empty cords
of lungs
burn with
tastes:
stumbling across rough shoulders

redly speaking
greenly thinking
bluely touching
yellowly destroying

talk
talk
talk
talk
talk
it all away

paint me with your (dying) colors

"hey, where are you" i walked amongst the sea to find you sleeping in a flower i"m outside, **** i missed" to stoke between your roots "i missed your text" a spark "ok" i felt when our lips were furred in kissing's "i'll see you in a minute" unhurtfullest punch

i want you to have com--

                   e

easily slowest faster
a tightly groomed lips

pleasantl--


                        y


of colossal tiny groaning
into deepening thighs
wanders deeper a
wand and dies (petitel--


                      y)





la mort

some short spark
you seem hard
hot over your
microphone
wailing
a bigness
larger
than
the
very
pert
figure
you cut
nicely out
the quavering
small air of a basement
houseshow crowded tangle
of faces and ears on edge at
the electric stroke of your agile
pick(but even larger is the alone
cloying to every word you uncarefully
hammer into the strangled pocket of youth)
i would take it i would take your alone voice
and i'd put it with mine and together perhaps
we would be something like some might call Love

i heard it day
the night sonata grunted
dollops of gacking bulging light

generally it might cool
                 a germ of fornicating flowers
of colours so purely filth
                            and marvel virtually
in gross infantile expunging
                                                            the death swiftly harnessed the
                                                             sorry dork of earth gobbles
                                                            of crude immeasurable lips

       the very burning brush
                                   of permanent sun

earth come: please ugly
a

dirt             please

earth, mud

maybe

earth

please

dark rich smelling

of wetDryingAsphalt fragrant

threaded moments

'tween

your sighs

is ****** a FLOWER
whose pollen
is sticky
has gotten thickly
coated my tongue
and the only cleaning
is to
lick

lick



lick

only it is that
in every vibrant stitch
or cream and leaves of flame
a craven volatile smoothness
the soil unbuckled
unto this day it swelled
a very giddy wart                  (it glowing on her hips )

swearing with repugnant beauty
it's scarlet freckles grumble with the moss

i am nothing the dying of closeness to perform
jet

          arrayed in ****** o' quivering lightness

my own body softly

in her living muss to fay

mychestherchest

or to bleed a stuttering rill o' life stuff

where carefully is laid a garden o' sleeping children
(uncreated

                       unlivid


                                              faultless­)


lust yet incredibly to fill
crease and crevice burns
and all muscles
the tightness for hurting yearns,



                                           '




                                                           ­   .



                                            

           ­                           ,






                              ­                                                        '






 ­                                                   



                             .

brittle day,
the singular flake
of your naked
obtuse ******* are
fine, "what dandies,
thick, toppled in
golden and tipped
in lightest, pink skin,"
conquers men and
flesh divine; the radiant
twin prongs of your
chest are rich, swollen,
and my fingers laid 'tween
them wreak of mint, lavender,
and they taste like warm blood
that i can barely fit inside (but
you like like it and drag me into
snarling night
                          (

sing sighs softly
o' wind
i walk with you
and i regard myself
(and how shall i regard myself?)
am i you?
do i flick or flutter?

without lips your whispers
are like incessant draping
fibers looser than tighter.

o' wind then,
answer me
are you again me?
or perhaps am i you?
you are like seas
bashful and incredible
you fold and buckle
seamless reams of
fingerless hands
you are barely muscles
and whole glancing
infinities.

of me, is there some
quality, that is you?
or do i remain a
simple foible?
a little meekness?
or am i(like you almost)
terrible and beautiful?

(well you don't say
a thing so i'll do this:
i'll **** my timid notion
and my diminutive weak
body will die too and oceans
of laughter will pile a crisp
tumult from my breast and
i'll yoke darkness to my shoulders
and i'll cram out into fathomless
tiny space every inch and dash of me
and i'll be beautiful like you O' WIND
i'll be beautiful like your dreadful glorious heave)

rush nites
through trees and belly
(come find me dreaming
and when you get here
i'll kiss you so softly i'll
plant roots stupidly
growing into your so
and green skin lightly)
you got big pretty enormous

           Jewels and **** nite

you are belong to my bed
and flesh(yourown)is mine

i've spangles and dirt in me(likeyou)
                                                                 nite
                                                             i
                                                           got
                                                         leaves and merry drunk revelers
                                                  prancing beautiful women things
                                               (and i like to bunch up their hems
                                                 (like you nite) and i like to
                                             eateth them)

i met you were small your lips and your body was so it
was so and it
was like i loved it to be
to be so and
i loved it

i you
the body me
it(baby)
feels more
when you(re)

your how mouth
i
wanted it
i want it

i stumble freshly it by
i madly wilt to kiss
its fluxing wondrous shoulder

your implike wafting
the keen dribble your
the heap of
parted sleeping

amongst
when i wander

(a dream becomes me)and baby please don't go

i love you the

iloveyoutheway

you the youthness
the inside tight the
hips your
and a sliver

i want to dash against
my teeth
i want (you)

i want you
please and don't

go baby

O eve
             O 1st starting nubile sparks
                                                          ­      O thrush and warble

         you skip tremulous and encroaching
       puddle o' dankness rushing oe'r blade and mountain
      you race the wind and gather up all the finite bodies of earth
     in your illustrious cool mouth and blow each face and stem thy
    kiss o' your illluminant clutching docile lips, which fornicate with
   the merry spades o' silver stars a digging the freshest grave of day
                                       (i'll fit into you
                                        the stuff of me
                                        in creases o'
                                        your foldless
                                        heaps and
                                        coiffes
             ­                           your hair marvelous and faultless
                                        staggers brightly
                                        from the pale splinter o' the moon
                                        and it eats me into
                                        the playful gnash o' its reticent
                                        fists
          ­                       )
         O
         eve
                             O
                            valley  and stream
                      
             (meet with me tonight
              beneath the pallor lady
              and we'll make love)

thee art the night
indescribably hued       a rose
and maketh me to lay
in the ocean of your petals     in the velvet fissure of your *******
supine; yoked to the chariot of
     your thighs        who,in their twain, is silken breaths of heaven

thou art a flower. in whose tremulous stems i am stupidly thrusting

          a thorn. palely now a part of your flesh. in the part of your flesh.

swims my lips on the svelte belly of your sternum. under and greedy
         of your eyes. the lashes of pleasure. inking your face.
   but though i deserve you not: incredibly you made me for your bed

           blooming simple honey.a summers day's night

it seems the sun is a flare of golden skin dangerously skinny light transposed elegantly on a tidy forest floor spreading aching breaths o

   f

come earth
come flushly
come trees
come birds
come all warm living heat
come frothing leaves and grass
come oceans brimming deepest
come able breaths of god
come creation
come body
come soul
come all rightness; all rawness; all bleeding and kissing
come hurt
come pain sorely and pleasure elated
come knees greenly sooted in the Summers virginal lush embrace
come lovers
come clear crystal nights
come drunken muddled nights
come stars
come lips and cheeks
come arms
come hearts
come urge
come increase
come wilt
come rind
come life
come death
come all things simple
come all things complex
come all
come everything
come and i will meet you
come and i will greet you
come and i will touch your bodies with my bodies
come and i will brush the lewd breaking dirt of you with the clean sturdy skin of my body
come and i will know you
come and you will know me
come O soft careless husk of amorous purple spring
come lilting
come graceful careful colours of flowers blossoming
come sun
come light
come women
come men
come **** ample female things
come mothers
come children
come into each distinct infinite freckle of the days agreeable self
come churches
come houses
come hovels and shanties
come love(and hate even)
come each thing and i will kiss you and i will tangle the crass and the beauteous in the immutable soul of my flesh
come and make
come and do
come and live
come and rejoice

All things good
All things evil
(nothing was ever either wholly
even holy neither)
All things studious
All things slack
All things fair
All things ugly

(the world's a body innumerable
a body complete
a voice and sinew
and to each great
frolicking kind bit
and to each meek
cowering mean bit
we are all
and everyone of us is
we contain every creation
every destruction
every birth
every immolation)so let's reconcile our own flesh with it
                                 and let's meet it squarely
                                 let's fit into it's cracks snugly
                                 and let's kiss each grain of sand
                                 let's love it
                                 let's become it
                                 (for it was always us
                                 and we were always it)
                                 (and i know it)

luscious corpse meadow salvation
wet waxy journal scrawled generous

be straight narrow crooked armor amour
fractured ferrous magnetic skin
dry husk sheathing thee: she spun metallic

so, yes, i will



                       but just this








                                                                                                                          once

A
                                                               ­        heart is where its
                                                             ­          gaggle of appropriate nerves
                                                          ­             tingle singing nerves
                                                          ­             single teeming nerves
                                                          ­             a tumult of aching skin
                                                            ­           towers correctly sublime
                                                         ­              a balmy twinge of evenings
                                                        ­               who curl with clearest scent
                                                           ­            about the firmer freshly body
                                                            ­           of the thighs quaking totally
                                                         ­              (a face that twists heroically
                                                      ­                  churns adroitly
                                                        ­                in adoring pleasure
                                                                ­        wreaking fragile sturdy
                                                          ­              crescents
                                         ­                               limping on the hotting
                                                         ­               chalice of her febrile
                                                         ­               brink. she totters just almost
                                                          ­              at it. right at it fiercely.
                                                       ­                 her flush groaning
                                                        ­                her garden parting
                                                         ­               ),i flay the difficult ugly
                                                            ­           that wears on her this
                                                            ­           common uncanny second
                                                          ­             i turn her sorely into naked
                                                           ­            flavored robes writhing
                                                        ­               between her thrashing together
                                                        ­               i stab her forever giddy
                                                           ­            my placid crashing”

come, undie, and summer you're like
don't sleep (at night even) in moon light
rushes straight lengths of uncoloured
flowers pale at bite of big with, same as
cheeks, mouth that agile flutters with
gossamer limp of sugar's hue and glowing
waft, O
                Summer

like naked, me, like you, I, each parcel
each languor of thy dark eyes is a house
holding my strained dust of burns with
incessant girl needing powder to coat
every petal dusted in my unprim lewd
often slight grin that wants for unbroken
never felt barren pages of wordless girlskin
and dig a ******* into monthly blood

A white worm rests in the netting of

      our

hips. silk weaver weaving woven strands
loose strings. fray the forever faceless groan
enunciated in pleasure giddy writhing.

    little      goddess     you     are      like     a      song:

playing in the empty void to singe my cusp and draw
my stupid fingers to dumbly rumble over your ***.

a she so pearled sweaty
sensual nodes gleaming
dark. i take a measure of
your effortless laughter
and drink till my mind
bursts bubbling onto the
coffee tingle cold heat bridge
erected over the electric notch
of your fur stroke. do
                                            i
                                              do
         well

                                        by

        you?

stand tall stupid arbor meats
peacefully deadened pursuit
of apathy grandly posited
a smooth unmarking
the soil goes
plunk",

every noteless music of this world is a song
exploding fracas in my smallest body lifting
burdened wings broken to stars falling 1x1
into my eye; sort of like the warmest rock
of green bluely visits all of me every days
it falls rising to up under my feet aloft it
i swallow winds breathtakingly sounds of
god touching all my atoms with his cooler
fingers  strumming over the strings of each
incredible momentous tedium when i am
doing the dishes in the frailing hammer of
Summer's heat gorgeously nuzzling the lilies
popping up from the richness deeply soil
in the flower bed right next to the porch
droops amazingly the tiredest earth

the night came a lady,
swooning her opalescent skirt
on the vertebrae of the earth!
and the shingles of stars were
crusted on the velvet belly of her
thighs) between
              whom
              is
the fragrant notch of dawn;
a babe waiting crimson skin
to wail softly in the crevice of
darkness and come immortally
dieing every eve. resurrected
in her womb who did slay him.
anon the coming morn.

but should
i have a say i would say i love her more.
the night. she slanders upon and kisses
my tepid flesh, inviting my eyes to
glaze her still frame. she doth love
me well. and i too do love her. the angles
of her skin. and her cool hair. stretching
or whispered. an arch tremulously. desiring
my fingers.

she is wet. the night. hither little magic. i will love you.

somewhere a boy(at last)in who darkness
uncoils
unfolds drips
down each bone
down each finger
            to each tip
            tingling
            crackles
            the teeming
            camber
            of a girl's
            waist feels
            like sweat
            tastes like tears
            wetness and molasses
            smeared mascara torn
            tights around brief ankles
            a skirt lifted and immaculate heaving cries

fillme
fill my
fill my hands
fill my hands, light.

i'll climb You.

i'll reach each
finger over
each finger over.

i'll climb you up
(if even tinly i'll shall
by minute courage expand
into quickly dying night
the frailness of my body
and i'll clamor
i'll tip
sinuously

up

into thy strayingest brightness
my cup
and it will run over with you

it will burn
and, by a thousand strokes of brilliance,
it shall teeter briefly invincible

on awkward skinny youth
it shall stumble deeply radiant folding

each star folding
manifold upon
manifold upon
manifold upon
folding each star

into the hottest crimp:
a kiss foibl'd                         )

clumsily boyness hands
imparting with love most earnest

that spangle will

and climbing fingers
over each
into

that hurt
will sharply round
rib after rib

till reaches
(in burning Cupid's fiercest glow)

my destroying weakness
with the strength of your inimitable lips

.                                                                ­                  



                                           ­                                           small



             ­                                                                 ­        start




                                               ­                                         through





           ­                                                                 ­             musicome




                                                    ­                                      come through








                                                 ­                                            all tenor and hue








                                                     ­                                          1 note shining








                                                 ­                                              1 note silver








                                                  ­                                              1 note clear


                                                         ­                                                                 ­as


                                                            ­                                               like
                                            
                                                          
     ­                                             
                                                                ­              water

                          

                ­                        come



a fury of twinkling and sound
pushing aside hotsweetness
pierce by sturdy breath the night
and come easy of cheek velvet
(soft as                             neat as)

emerging from thy breast a spangle
(a sprig

                   raw
                                            
                                              in    heat)

which­, though sleeping, wants of
gushing lather (SPRING) to leap
the frailing prism of the human lips

               A song
               more frail
               more dying
               even than

wings O
divine
                slowly

feathers manacle
the air beneath
you boundlessly
the earth trembles
beating
a sour hot tattoo

as bustle muscles
to and wither
froing going
men and ladies
mingling like
sweet
                like

salty spit like
tongues
even to enter
one tingling
mouths
                 they yaw

and pitch
i think it grossly
wonderful
and i see marked
amongst the figures
hurriedly to
mix (bile and honey)
the longing stuff
of girls
                 but

O wings lifted
a pinions to heaven
ever whiter
i yet don't
turning seamlessly
upon the moral
wind
              i
                   fly

it feels precisely,

no,                  more

exactly pleasant:

SUN barely

'cause autumn
shoulders less light

Rain more

and unlight

earlier, day each day
marches deeper
into deeper

gilt in naked and dead
colours: gold brown

'pon crunch build
towers of ******

(trees)

silently after silence
flood infinitely into

SlEEp,

          ,

    .

           '

what is if (does the who why) and?

me perhaps you perhaps the trees
(and thousands of them(i have seen)
and thousands more await
each day as grass of us
belched of cloven stuff foil'd
'bout the neatness of gravestones)

there is a garden
and i have been amongst who
the stems of it sleeps girls
in their skin awake;

in their skinny awake
on unsure knees
ushering

boysandgirls

to and fro

toandfro boys and girls

go into each other their lips and out comes the Earth.

to be so
without punctuation
and verbing
                with your soft nouns. it is i, it is thy, it is we(re an aroma

i love you
i hate you

i hate you
i love you

i love you




i love you

heaped i
with dirt shall
produce a babe
(greenly a thousand
****** against the sun
will stand against his heat
)a shimmer gently child
of softly hair mostly
a body innumerable
so thick with verdance

            (and
                i will
           laugh
               and say,
       "was there ever any death?"

we are effortless(
a pale and limbic house
)we hold in each others
our hearts
or music
                      the tone of marble calves
or your skinny hips                                            where
                                        i strum between they
the chord
                     which          rises
(from your pelvis )
                                        to a throat bubbling howl

what light is this?
some erstwhile
strand of divinity

traipse across thy brow

be not as they
they being we

thy fingers
grow cold
in touching
that cord

luminosity
grow
fill
flow
sparkle

tickle (naked)
backs

tongue of light
licking through
creases
in time

wrinkle
violent

and dead is.
                daed
             si balmy june silver moon welt so ugly beautiful.

dead is sometimes always. always sometimes and dead is.
      dead is smiling white cheek mucous coughing blond
darkness and.
         ;dead it's the livid miracle of carnal soil by bones
distinctly scented of muscles. it's dead is autumn dancing
   a ragged yellow corpse crunching of the naked souls
**** hearts pounding, and dead. dead is grand
         and purple flowers cramming flavor into the loose
pocket of wind and carpals unfleshed sodden clasping
      dry mouths dusty nouns. and dead is music,
long and fat, grotesque hips chattering with taught lips
       onyx saliva belching stupid oral.

               and
                                de
              ad
                       i
                                                                                    s.

thathathathathathathathat
perfect
perfect
perfect
perfect
i
n
kee­ps me in
-side its enormous tiny
ica
n't say noto
those folds
-avage
flavor
that perfect pink

i love you there is
something undark

more

unseemingly possible
to speak which
makes your soul–

it the
noose which
hangs by all the nights and days

to be rough
to be wholly of
hard and unhard made;

it want it to touch
(as inside touches)

each small and trembling
****** of me;

and i want it to feel
(as valkyries feel)

hurt beautiful ugly and strong.

open me your hands
fists cruelly which
their tightness conceal


                                                  a
   ­                                            Slender
                                                 blade
                                            Of
            ­                                         spring

                                        In

             ­                                                heat.


                      (a cut distinctly of certain cuteness bleeding)A


dolllike limpness
of stiff
cherry breaking.



                                 a branch of sometimes petal bearing stems.

                                                  (a kiss and roughness)

            Open me them
                       there
                   slightness
                       will
                  bare
                            a span
                of
                      lewd innocence.


a strip of easy with parting rain which sometimes in April feels like dying
feels like pusshing apart of lips, hot redness, and ***** of steep fuzz.

the body you are is beautiful so
(erectly

                rushing)


and stings
'pon my lips a song

furred in girlness
it sings
so

and so
beautifully it

i


by it

burn

to leap freshly
mortal care
and my immortal soul:

                                                 bare

take: in my hand yours
and walk the sloping path
into the gentle darkness of
oblivion. slowly. but if
by my side you are
i go smiling.

which are you? Thou who art mostly scaled in fears
Of little rotten skulls)
        & the blundering mystery
of the big dark deepest deeply reaping darkness.thefingerofgod
    the thumb of god
                                   '
               between them our souls are writhing as he PLUCKs
them from our carnival
our    really big uncouth faces
. that he tickles in our sleep with dry
          and wet puffs of languid
fire He drizzles from the right heart
          in the wrong chest of men
Who like to act all nice and sweet
          but aren,t probably either
at all or maybe just a wee little itybity (a lot);
                                                                                                  the We
                                                                                         we were weren't well
                                                                                      we're we which is glee
                                                                                      a fantasy of garbled
                                                                                       annotated cells
                                                                                        at morts nice mouth
                                                                                         at morts pert mouth
                                                                                          at morts gnashing maw
                                                                                            in it
                                                                                             we're crunched
                                                                                              by shapely spears
                                                                                               of white
                                                                                                with blatant sharp
                                                                                                  edgesinourorgans
                                                                                                   sleeping in our
                                                                                                    thresh of hours
                                                                                                     the silver merry
                                                                                                      scythe man
                                                                                                       puts us in a box
                                                                                                        and we lay real
                                                                                                         still and moving
                                                                                                          not even the
                                                                                                           most little bit
                                                                                                            we stay like
                                                                                                             that we stay
                                                                  &n

we are mostly tedious                                                          ­                                    .
glaring dashes of thick                                                            ­      '
minutia trifling to and fro                                              '
in mental coffins                                                          ­   ,
                                  we like to wear                           '
                                                               ­  as chains of,

knees go weak summer very smile

                                                                    

                    spUrts

over: two legs, skinny hips, a mile
of stomach, daintily *******, neck
and a chin(also)above sprouts a                nose

nice how it flush face with
saliently bursts ivory white 'neath
limpid fissures of greenly sharp roundness

(eyes)that flutter, held by cheeks as
smooth and innocently as driven
snow sparkles just a bit in the summer
between the **** hillocks of my
thighs a mouth pristinely admits

      me

are you what.
((i think you are)?



             the body).


i think
you are
(which is
just slightly rotund

just

easily weak.

fit betweeen
your years)

long and
barely skinny

of arms. O

and you are

what
(i think)
you are?what?

(you are the rushing
keenly that joins
vein and soul; singing
)
You are.
and what
you are

is

vertically serene wonderfully pleasant

falling.