23 oct. 2010

My Love

One two tears for four years welcome back black pants bring bed to sands bring head to strands start at my belly button up and then the zipper down take your cold hand and place it there on the tan line the walls and strike the whys and all the reasons for the sighs and signals at a lamp post London rain it bit so hard it hit the sidewalk until it walked on its side and maybe an owl hid behind the mind brought bleak correspondence from tile to shower tile the speakers dead a while but dial redial redial denial a whiff of amber moon in some strange hill where goddess fog speaks through the fire and smoke sails the sheet its smell rancid soft warm sex lingers and it won’t go away a game of climb and soar don’t snore blow nose tissues fall apart fingers part the hair it reddens in the black reflection of silk screens the toil of lion’s mane I love to tame and rake like pebbles made on garden fence the talking hills and flower thrills I smothered pieces through curves of highway homes and deserts thick but empty threshold where shadows moved throat sore words gone cigarettes instead of friends like all your toes like toads and turtle smile neck can’t let go four long back tears stream black plants don’t leave three goodbyes unwanted white shirt leave couch to dust leave legs to trunk end at my mouth corner and then the ear edge bring your hot tongue and move it here on the milk spot dot the ceiling and lift the answers and all the questions of the laughs and symbols at a post office Paris snow it nibbled so soft it grazed the grass until it fluttered round and maybe a snake slithered from around the heart hid bright subtleties from smile to falser smile the dancers much alive so send resend resend respend a spray of amethyst cloud in some strange valley where god mist screams through the lighting and foam navigates the blanket its texture stifling prickly stale chaste trembling and it won’t stay a sermon of plummet and struggle don’t score suck eyelashes lost architect rebuild vertebras slide the spine it whitens in the grey mirror of wool pools the soil of wolf’s bane I hate to shame and clutter like leaves left on terrace gate the whispering caves and mushroom gurgles I sprinkled pieces through lines of ice lands and thin savannas but empty threshold where shadows moved throat sore words gone cigarettes instead of friends like all your toes like toads and turtle smile neck don’t let go one two three four and to a hundred.

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