Strike a cord
Shoot the vile
Break my hands
Type a bible

Spring soft chimes
Across the glass
A million childs
Start to laugh

Burning leaves
Acrid taste
Fill my cuts
Creamy paste

Delicious country
Sprawling space
Infinity beckons
Take your place

Take your place

from the tiny melody of your hips
sp
    r
         ou
                    t
                           s)
the symphony of your waist licks the air
as each stride bifurcates the clean summer heat
feet snapping a flip-flop symphony. crunch the petals
and drip into my apex. stubbornly beautiful
you are sharp and green. a perfect thorn. towering
precisely with ******* freckled softly with my lips.

                    what divinity smiled this

upon my skin. you.
                                            ;
i drink your breath and taste your heart. exactly.
        the puckish rhythm of your thighs
is pulsing steady and unbearably. nerves all stumbling
electricly tingle to the deft razor of your nails. i       was
       a  
                    m
                    a
                    ­ n.   but now merely,               a

came you pinkly curving over curving rush
by flaming lipped in sleeping flowers
the aching stem; the caving hush
from easy darkness there sloping towers,

the falls deeply leaning on pelvis *******
moonlight coiling rolls and peaks
a column steaming at each terminal's cleft
whose each glowing timber cloyingly reeks

of my wreak, and the uncarefullest youth
who the stupid *** of creaking motion
is frailty distilled in instant truth
and mocks, by beauty, the immortal ocean

toward ecstatic dying we slowly leap
from the sickled moon where darkness creeps

i love you it the world
and

i love

how by the way
when you laugh
shakes all your body

just a bit
your body

like your body
it shakes
the rain

it moves even when it doesn't and

it feels warm inbetween my sheets(hands)does
your body

and when you stir
in the morning
stirs more the sting
the hot
the ring the
when it
the morning does
sting does
the stir more ring does

of the sun through my shades
prickling very skinny
it reaches

to touch very lightly your hair
and meets my fingers there

(when you are laying
and i kiss
you
pull tightly
the curl of your legs)

i sit up and look out you
your arms
over me
become
and i
back again
into them
trip

like when i have looked up at the stars and my breath
winds up into them
a neat and easy coil

you are like your lips

and your lips are like the sun
dashing
across infinite nothing
to meet my lips

in such heat
i think them cherry to touch

but a poem is not you
nor are you a word

instead you, Dear, are

SUMMER,
                   you this are effortless nonsense a girl
                   before coolness you are honey
                   sticky between familiar and new
                   your lips invite my lips
                   to kiss every sudden burning
                   spontaneous second
                                                        (some of you is days)
                                                        soft hot days
                                                        where is melting ice
                                                        in quick cups sat
                                                        on tables outside cafes
                                                        where we meet we
                                                        ourselves under your skirt
                                                        heaven waits in one crease
                                                        a flower dimpled with
                                                        giddy writhing pleasure
        and

                  some of you is nights
                  hard magic nights
                  where blood and ***
                  are a union surly
                  and quiet stifled groans
                  (so we don't wake your
                  roommates)
                                                                              and
                                                                                                     all of you is one long *****
                                                                                                     iridescent and over your sinew
                                                                                                     it sweats poems and laughter
                                                                                                     in a small meadow we found
                                                                                                     between forests in trees
                                                                                                     and we sit and we are almost
                                                                                        forever

                                    



                                         ((you are that) summer)

Summer foolish
  your stupidest fists
         mangle in wet
                       girls
                      by the
                       lake rifled
                      by the
                    f
                   i
                    ng
               e r s
                 roughgently
             of hefty
                lush
              godsighs
                                        Sum
                                           mer purring
                                                         muscles
                                                     you bulge
                                                          triceps
                                                               ladling
                                                             the kissed
                                                            lovely forms
                                                          of sungirls
                                                                     by the golden
                                                                  hewing untrembling
                                                               husk of laughing days you
                                                                                                                  unquaver
                                                                                                                     steadily increasing
                                                                                                                           on bodies
                                                                                                                                    daftest
                                                                                                                                 some stinging redness
                                                                                                                    and
                                                                                                     in the soft
                                                                                                  belly of your nights
                                                                                                i'll stand by open drinking
                                                                                                  seawind windows
                                                                                               and i'll rub
                                                                                                       into the back
                                                                                                    (the startled raw back)
                                                                                                   of my silly girl
                                                                                                 some aloe
                                                                                                                   and i'll kiss
    &nb

come this day with me and look upon the earth.

She is a wise
wide at the hip
deep into her
basin where

the folding occlusion
of her bulging lips
contain the
exstatic pearl of life.

she is full:
her thighs
abound over
in supple fat;

her moss is
golden she hangs
a bent beam
on the running
rill from her

cleft bump,
the hillocks
suffused in
grass rollick
and distend
pleasantly.

within where
the waters
part themselves
into blood
and wine.

Her mucous
is secrete:

it flows
en-opaled.

The eyes are for it.
The mouth is for it.
The hands are for it.

it holds wide itself,

(and tight and suffuse
and secretly languorous)

for all who would enter;

and ALL entering is here.


And leaving too
is here:

there is entering and there is exiting here;
one quickly after the other,
or at the same time,
or at neither--
entering and exiting all the same.

She is a worm hung
and in her cellar
is some moist rot;

but do not dismay
for as entering and exiting:
from rotting there is birthing.

And how we are born.

And how we come from her.

And how we come into her.

And are made the same again.

i had my feet on theair and was gashing in the new
house of first violence
my hands were arranged in a patient painful shape
that laughed with speed
he's a dank specter of courage lilting in this valley
falling perspicuously quiet
of motion deadened, an apathetic figure stiffly
la petite mort
well spill sleeping wind on the face of night
and go into your head
a delicious sprawling valley, at the beckoning
of my fists
i made it for you, this dream, so dream it

did you know that a dynamic first cluttered light spilt about and smattered the various golden brimming lip of earth gilt in ******* bolts of mountain fat and even their ridiculous shoulders couldn't stop the dawn from treading succinctly marvelous sporadic flare

i recall: (with some clarity(
a day spread with hot hours
testing the cool root of light
bursting forth the summation of
an instant stretched into
infinite chaste shade) but
however thus
an apple blossom hung
heavy on knowledge)

i hope the suns
challenge to my pallid construct
doesn't engender
a sense of
red

crinkle dust
up on
           lashes frail
those mercurial onyx
splinters o' your sharp
eyes
        you catch me
looking at you from
the back of
                    the room
you catch me onyour
sharp eyes
                   grinning
a slutty rictus
                        you cut
a sharpness out the air
with them
                   green shards

i went about the down and cleand own b yth ec l ea n
lithe bony bay ribbing the asphalt skin chuckTaylors'
and by and by the astute angle of the seas daunting
tailored skinny notch a grommet of sun ****** through
the scaly tremble of wispy ***** clouds spunting and breatheing
casual volumes of aromatic fluid bumbling out their tired
mouths and ******* on the lax pavement some of the heavy
drops "sPloosh!' wenting the ocean did and going "
whOosh ! "     the waves are munificently scrambling all about the rough timber
of the agile dock sitting sorely all alonesome and fickle
    so i gave it my feet
and wattled to its precocious face
and slid into the big
       blatant crumble
:      THE WATER

.






























              "You turn me on in a different way that I'm not used to."































.

i love sUMMEr oh i love it like like i do
i think because i love magic and i do
the darling suicide of its breast's between
i laid a crown of poppies and thistles
i laid a forest of ivy and of jasmine
i laid a hand between them and its hips
i laid (at least) 2fingers (3please)

                     SummeR

always tight and wet wants more fingers
between hips (and i laid a girl between them)
she rolls around when you stick her with a
thorn(andwhenyoucomeoutthere'scratches
all over your neck and you bleed a little
but it's ok SUMmer says coyly)


she's a **** and i love her

i by nothing invincible life steal
and steal again

into unearthly frigid sleeping night

crux and crux 'pon,

and strange furious tumult of lust
whorled ear strains to catch

lifting my finger to scratch her
opaque stomach one frail sliver
of light, stop that murmuring
never endlessly mutters beauty
impossibly amorous careful wind

tugs sepals into the mute kisss
of dawn: colour more blindlingly supple

riding     goes      a       pale     hors!3

                                       hea
                                -ven

wriggling splendidly orange on her withers
              muscle              nerves
  
crackle specifically shocking writhing

     and turn around to face the frilly sanctuary
of the frailing light whisper.  he y ou gritty
hoof string be impossibly galloping fleet.
    i argue with the dead methodically
           but                                             ;                         comes

  nothing
    o
        f                            that  tangled grin

i have(foot brutally)

               in grass newly wet

trod

the lick of

                    waifish

                                   damp

greeness('tween toes particularly futile blushed)at
beads of damson
                                slung eve,
                                                     falls

              
                            A

                S


                    T

          A
                    
            R into earth SWELLS
                                                  crystal
                                        keen
                                  
glassy summer night
crisply etched in sleeping trees

               FLOWERS!at whose

gentler fullness

                            the jagged suddenly

                            cold

                            of
                            "goodbyesun"
                            
                             whispered the errant
                             predictable mountain
                             slunk
                                       fat
                                             in
                                                   dark
                                                             i

on the (tender)
tips of
soft pink
lips
quivers
darkness
first
aching kiss

"takeme
takeme
takeme
takeme
takeme"

;whispers
i
(t)

sighing winds
coruscating over
naked selves

our raw i's
can't bear
the lightness of the
weight

it's gossamer truth
the softest cut

.                                                like doing i you
             you're
               velvet
                    and
                        your
                          pearled
 ­                             *****
                              ­   pleasure
                                       notch
                                                           ­       from
                                                     ­                whence
                                                          ­                 do
                                                              ­                  perfumed
                                      ­                                                roses meekly
                                                          ­                                spit

                           ­                     the snatching
                                                       ­    song of your
                                                            ­           thighs
                                                          ­                  wet music
                                                           ­            where is
                                                           dumbly my
                                                ardor spent

                                                          ­                                      in furious
                                                         ­                                                mechanical
                                                      ­                                                           pumps

by my face standing the next to upstairs window looks out (i can see) on the hot inch of a glowing city youth where and unyouth mingle (a cat) in a fat buzz of quiet freezing still air it looks so coyly diminutive (curls about eyes)(through next doors window) opaque and not breathing pallid sprawls tinly its tummy has groaning stretch marks(a paw)thick with amber nestled suddenly a car horn(and skitters away)

i think when i die i will be a forest
in who shall be does and fauns
pretty and glad in sunshine oh
yes sunshine will be there and
it will always smell like right after it
rains cooly on hot asphalt like
it smells like when you come into
a room i think when i die i shall
be a star flecked with innumerable
other stars on slick neat necked
night's pursed lips all pinched and
sticky with unyoung youth and
anciently when i die i think i will
be an ocean where will sleep mermaids
in pearl white skin and fishes and
a somehow little city in a nice little
dome where they will play music
such music as you would want to
listen to when you're sad because it
will always cheer you up and like
ee said to me one night when i was
reading him in my bed he said "it is
funny that you will be dead someday."
and i knew it right then that i think
when i die i will be a forest

ere the vapid dolt of lengthy light
we writhed inexorably salacious
as serpents on our bones
in the passive leather
of extrapolating guilt

i swiftly, will into casually skies, wade fire into them and they alight on me cut like
sharp little eyes those heavens got such brusquely painted vaults all blue and slightly
they swim with whiteness in them are so puffed and drifting lazily on copper swooping
twilight they become a bit usual. but i comfortable and dauntless sleep in their heart, my blood ,
crinkles on the waxing moon's lustrous ***** (and it does roll crimson beads down through
each marvelous breast to upon her belly and becomes a singing bird of autumn and it dies

deeply so, have ever you thought, on a moment that you thought you knew
it? have you ever thought of
     Summer with her flush
     amber skin just bursting
     almost apricot thick
     colours professing
      out her richly thatched
      mouth in between the
      lips of seraphs
      oceans of wind that
in which a frond is bending, just almost breaking bending, in the
immense touching blood of blades of sand and grains of grass
who slough from brows of aching partings
and sore graftings.

                                                                        in  yourself  think ever you Did
                                                                        the arms of your lover
                                                                 against stiffly you clutched who
                                                                      lean ribs, who in them beats
                                                                      mornings of song little a
                                                                      filled with drifting fuzzy
                                                                 daughters lazy wood's cotton

?
  in summer i went to seattle and down to its neck i drew my hands
and around them i was a sweating magic light full and a blister
of smiling residue; my grin was like a girl put my tongue in her mouth
and she pulled me real close and her bumps rumpled on my bumps
and we were real slow and hot and she was gross and perfect and long
and i remember how she's scalp was like a small black jungle
that my fingers (as her teeth were like little ****** of tingling all over
my scent) marauded around the profusion of her dazzling locks
which mocked the night who was contumelious at how they made love
with,andMurdered, whate'er foolish lance or drape of light was foolish
enough to touch with them. her hair was a serious fierce laughter. and
it filled right me up. right up to my pooling blood foolishly her face
was a goddess and i was a lamb.

spread your tremulous
        t
     e a r
        s
in strokes of brilliant radiance
          On alabaster canvas;
                      
                              all shivering stops
at this texture of
                a sparkling cowl
drawn over mine i's
        i ***** at the indulgent
    smattering of cool colours
rippling on the calm cheeks of
                                        A
crying
            
                         sun

how deeply flowers
in spring's warm fist
(between whose fingers)
, , , , ,mumble lithe plumes
of cherry cotton
and sugar virile
(the candy of sweaty days
waters in the clamor of
my mouth) monumentally
perfusing rills
(trickling out Morpheus' ear
                                                  (
and into thy own))

in the twain o' nite and morn
stirs the bright crepitus
o' your illuminate
joints and
the arcuate
motes of sleeping
curves enter my body
the smallest and loveliest
fingers painting silence
shivering 'neath the
loaded quiver o'
your mouth's
prime jewel,
those lashes
startling the
organized clot
of stifled air in
the certain pocket
of my uglywithoutyou
room, and the beauty drunk
and darkness fleeced marble
of your kisslonging head peaks
out suddenly crawling the lonely
chasm between our lips and crushes
absolute sexluscious ribbons pink set
onto my own vein penultimate lips and,
                                                            ­       '
                                                               ­       '
                                                        ­           '
                                                               ­        '
                                                               ­    '
                                                               ­        '
                                                               ­ ,

could what be more beautiful
than, unbound, ivory fingers
caving tingling
filigree complete and softly
intricate on the mechanism
breathing dying
in spRing slowly handstitani(
)cally imp there feathering
living smiling
big chestnut eyes the summers
got about her face a lot like
glinting shying
the star scaled meter of the
last night i was in with
you. where we were forever
scalding lying

my
     my light
my lithe light
                           my lithe lady
daily devotions: i attend with my lips
your marriage of heat and (callous sensuality
unerringly lavished a spit of phlorescent marrow.    .        .    To the salt

       of sunlight light majestically freckled your shoulders

who's so pale hands are grippless plums juice bursting off you're onyx hair
         dimly.

         who i'm enamored a foolish

                            girders
                                                  of my rib

solitary pumping scarlet

                                                carve my amorphousness to
            symmetry
                                 the
  ****
                      breach
                                                 of lavender
                                                                                   sound!

DEstroy(of)er(whothe)

               earth


is slender waisted gaunt
pale skinny horsed
and short

                       in leggings
           (smoKING a hard
****)wiggles pink at the


folds and heaving
in youth


wears some glitter on her
over the balcony
*****

this was how
i
liked her best:

pallid roots
spread
some soft wet
in their twain
drawing
an oral sepulcher
to dine
on hertenderleaves

(i bent my lips
in grinning countenance
at
that infliction
i did
visit upon              a
lovely sundrenched
tree)

& 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

everyday i'm discussing with everyday, myself as i make out to the glamouring
the inches and dashes of every self i have
and stitches of sinew here in which lies the me that is this i, i that am

i walked in leaves of grass, of wriggling splendor's summers of shoulders
and achy crimsoned necks by the suns meters of light
measuring the stints of our crawling opaque days and suns of many sons

it's very that is that even when sun should repose his ***** of uncadenced
carefully miraculous shimmering blood
like orange and ardent flesh he'd go on us it, giving his very stuff our bodies

to wear on our wheres and whens and whys. is night not also beautiful?
it is naked beautiful. **** and beautiful
plenteous and beautiful with all its hearts in tinder palely igniting every

atom of copious earth. bowls of copious illuminant children, the things
which will become after us
the us that we were before their coming. but they are gorgeous and neither

would i weep if in my going they should take that space where were was
i. resting the shouts of my self
in the orchards of youth, i am now so but it's quickly running, flitting

eagerly from my this. in vines and plurals i am single and many. neither
none nor many. but many ones,
little bubbles of tranquil vile fluid guttering the songs of wind.

i go to streams and they are me. i go to mountains and they are me. i go
to valleys and they are me.
can i be streams and mountains and valleys? can i not be streams and

mountains and valleys? they are weeds and i am a ****. a **** is a rose.
i am rose.
i am blossomed in full spring. able of petals. i am turned to the sun, with my

root between the lips of earth. who is my lover. the earth is woman.
she is a ****.
a **** is a rose.

by another name. they smell just as sweet.

in time's unblemished flesh
this silver sliver of bliss
played delicate vibrations
over my sanity
nuzzling my conscience
with it's tempting
calm
cool
violet kisssssssss

reposed in shade
'neath quavering branches
in lucid confusion
they sing the sighing song
of winds splendorous caress

we don't speak
our silence says enough
besides
our oral instruments
were occupied with each others tongues

Winking doubled 3 and by 3
he was down by a the an at
the very steepness of the grocery
outlet's little outlet shunting
to passersby his handy vanity(and they liked his dog and saiding so they drooped a coined palm and flatulated giddy tinklings

     he later utilized to *****

wet stoops
wet sleeps
down beside
vibrant hulks
of day into night becoming
a persimmon fleshed in robes
of sweetish musk of raging dark:

that blind canny o' comely marsh
where sweats tallly the brisk frigid
smirk of winter coming into between–

i cannot fathom
nor wonder 'pon a thing more
violent **** or primly stolen
than the absurd tumor of suddenly
which every immense second of life
Is.

and how do i call it?
how do i name it by itself?
is it nameable?
is demanded some strict finitude of immutable logic?
or is impossibly monikered in nothing short of illimitable self?

(and who have I been? have i been myself? where did i begin? and shall i ever end in knowing?)

rise all loudly colours sing and RISE
from the body human things each
and fling wide all heaven from you

               ROAR


                                  and
                                            RISE

all from meekness rapidly glow deeply
hot like stars that blunder from night
into mortal dust leaning slowly faster
into nothing hurtle lust kissing swat
the crouching curl from thy skin soft
and
                         RISE

all quietly whispers fold and fold
again upon till reaches thy throat
1 young rage neatly unborn rage
splitting immensely darkness
pouring swiftly immortal shouting
invincible summer and

            RISE

filling oblivion with your naked
abruptly slender stupid *** O,

and rise

Neck totally lips hot continuously over
and
       over
            aNd
                 o'er
                     ere
                         the splash
                  ,great and yellowly gargantuan,
                coming invulnerably the earth o'er
             (I kindle mightily snoring lungs with
               tightly wrapped binding skin burs
                ting simmering glaciers topped
                 moistly with me,) under you
                  when i have been
                   i liked my body more
                    with muscles snaking
                     impatiently
                      pleasing
                       the body of you
                        lady Night
                         ;you lake of bumping fire
                          hideously i'm a plunging
                           into thee
                            , thy into
                               thighs totally
                                smacke
                                 d with mine
                                                       o
                                                     ver
                                                        me
                                                     W
                                                   h e n
                                                        U
                                                    have been
                                                i li(c)ked
                                             your body more
                                          precociously than
                                        A
                                          n
                                        y
                                         Dulcet electric buzz
                                            your crown of moans
                                               lungs from erratically sprouted
                                                 gilding splendidly

I come a robin's egg blue sky
With a sun and a night
Lean, dank, and innumerably
Looms with magic
Just at the nape's of
Street lights

i'm going to wake up tomorrow.
i'm going to wake up and i'm going to go into my bathroom and shave. i am going to look in the mirror. i'm going to look in the mirror and i'm going to tell myself a story about who i am.

i'm going to say, "i am Patrick Wakefield. i am 25 years old. i am Patrick Wakefield, i am 25 years old, in the winter my hands get dry and crack around the knuckles and bleed. i am 25 years old, and one summer i fell in love. one summer i spent a hot week in a small room. it was hot, and i was in love. and i don't drink normally but i got drunk on plum wine. i got drunk on plum wine, it was hot, and i am 25 years old. in the winter my hands get dry and crack around the knuckles, and bleed."

a perhaps summer wilt with hands maybe
like cups or bowls o' laughter running over
what drizzles o'er the numerous human
stuff by a pondsome quick pretty water
glittering succulently its most cool grasp

o'er her body from it gallops the crescents
of her lush formidable query i tousle
with my tongue like last winter i was
walking in a garden when the frost
stung my nose real hard and i was
just almost inside when i noticed how
absolutely demure the snow was
clutching the soil it like a lover it from
whom it nay would release except for
that same afternoon it rained and
all was unfrozen and loved no more
the snow the soil like this terrific

droplet of her skinny strength stabbed
with youth and running out her wounds
the ablest *** dances rushing on sturdy
limbs to snare over the cuirass of flickering
electronic flesh (my chest) and drape
supreme fair fairy dust inside each
nostril and straight to my dithering acute
brain and tingles abruptly her
belated fingers unday brushing the eaves
of cobalt with purple frilling the
edges and we repose in the cracked
bucket leather seats of my drab yellow
volvo and

                 and
                         and

magic surly blood dank
gold flecked and musty
shimmer set alight burning
you're some copper and some
dark brown sugar

                 like you taste like rust

against night dear a skull
sockets brimming with ladybugs

          behind a knoll

in forest deep and green sleeping
magic forests

  (         where fairies are still really

       nice fairies with

            great hair
    
   and they play diminutive

   harps
             strung
                         with light
                         and dancing)

magic stirring from firmest and
unyielding repose

             rise

and meet me in Summer in
forests sleeping greenly and
festering with holly crimson
Magic
you're some
thing i don't know
but i'll try to say you
anyway and i know you
love me 'cause i felt you in
between the sweltering balm
of girls thighs pliant and annihilators

(Magic surly blood dank
and glittering a bit of rough
you are like baking cake just
for yourself and a friend arrives
unexpectedly and you sit down
delighted and instead of alone
you eat and talk all afternoon
about nothing at all)                      


                                                Magic
                                                           you are
                                                           like that

violent You are like a biggest sound
cloyingly honeyed on my mound of massed
and singing chords
                                         (you are a rose most thorned and beautiful
    i clutch idiosyncratically
strangled scarlet petals bursting
                     a foal i;ve nursed with tremoring pits of bold
gangling and accurate stench

             violent you're a tedium
a lush and decaying growth
         so lightly cancering my cell
and I breath your daily blood                and i whimper first glowering fist

      my hand to take that penitent shape
                                                                            

                and i"ll whisper it



to their chins:
                                   they who art most a mortal folly
as to wade in my
                                        quaking presence


         andi


'              
           ;ll



     sleeep               them                           quickly rushing rushing



               oBliviOn)

a
wetly
i
did
shed a
tear
but not so
sad
as
they appear

i like you dyin'
your blissfully crisp
lucious pulled
tightly dyin'. your

bursting thinness the

skinny your arms

the(bytheway) your eyes

which(shining)gleam faultless eternal


andthe
your whynot perfectly hips
which carry like the burning of my cut
(with your cut)to
meet

                                ;  as ships



i and think do you
like dyin'

and you i like
(and like you i) a girl that
likes girls
                     (dyin')


likes





i

hey i don't you
remember the sea    ?
       ido
it was speaking little wet enormous. a tooth
         hey!don't i you?re a massive collapsing
ocean deep perfect. the waves crack back
an oblique smell of crying swollen.
                     it,s a god's face; a bruise blushing on his cheeks
maybe

                we taste the shore. it's gray enunciated sky impinging the
dry with damp teeth. or the mountains thinking on the horizon:

                blotting truculence

                        they stand  so still

yay,
ere to for i go
verily as am i
amongst the root of flesh
where layeth dust and soot
in a pleasing rectangle
of symmetry and wood

1(first
how came we
to god
           laid in ruby sand
a reticent meadow
of unyielding flowers
where walked i and You
in crisp vagrant unwinteR   . at complete crepitus
                            of illustrious tumors gritty
                            golden loose punish
                            of tawny excelling light
                            so for what to it slinks
habitually
                  atthe root of poppies striking fumble
a smell careening
                              of accurate stemming plunk(the stout muscle of dawn crept stupidly
                up      the
                                   ******* fat
                                            the mountains bridle
                                               with rigid imposing flint
                                gray skin
aaaand
             slowly naked
                            the full and bashful earth

first love,
in whose body
my soul is made,

                                  the whiteness:
                                  your crisply
                                of
                      ­        scent
                            is like
                          when
                        parts­
                      the long
                   night
                     budding
                        the crimson
                     tooth
                   of
                       dawn
                    'pon
      
           the edged back
           thinness of
           mountain hair


(growing fairly towerish
it sprouts
as sprouts the sea
the freshest breath of life
to take by inimitable quavering
the softness of mind to depart
knowing

                      and kiss into

           the sweetness of darkness      (



                                w
            ­                     h
                                 ere

              sleep is
              nice
                              and
        
  ­                  comely wilting snow
                    on the blade of heat
                                     '
                                     ;
                                     .