a perfect spring song

and a little like it was. A shade of a tree, but not a shade on me! An invitation and I should shed things off. Something like the foot upon foot of white thick snow and the silence but for a crunch under boots. It all feels a little memory in me, hurting the heart stomach with pleasurebliss excitement. a dream real happening presence, now.

viper in, abundance

I is waterslides, you is equivalence. The terms I learned, the songs into which your mind sank. My hair and the captivating sunlight of your glance, your own little watergasps, trails & streams of and from, a rocky path gathered back from the side of the road & into a little round opened from a mouth of yours. The pretense burns and the little man on the wrapping player, lamplit, snowdry.

a burning sunset fill s the nostril s. Scampercat across fence. Pale amber tree silhouette, casual stop-time.

I and the slipnslides, you and the remember the backroad, to the place on the riverbank, one could crawl gasping into the clear freezing cold; naked best beneath a summer sun. ? Remember the beet of a taste charm? And the bright & its shadows!
Small beat, small salad. Little root of fuchsia. Just a colored remembrancer. And to think I thought thoughtless of spelling.

I cut from the branches of ancient jade two tiny limbs, one sick, one gifted, both gifted by & to and for proof, I claim

oh, around your face is the sunset on snow for all a dream effect.

a quiet hand-key, a quiet kitten

engagements:




Fine breaths, fine blows, and a chime a remind a soft whiskered nose. To-wards, one paw before the next, one tiniest footprint in a freeze of fluff, tufted ovals a paw makes and a tongue-wards to lick the cold from.

My own little ends of time meeting yours; we stop & gasp & think, is this how people do? have you ever met a friend a love a date enough? and then does time stop for them too?

aghast: I and we, I'll bring us up. Like never to think, to watch, to write, to work. We are simply do, and done, but always doing still. Yours & mine are like foreverwards exclaimed. We know not friend or dinner, but us in & in deep of friendship together and always in dinner. An awkward anything to us is foreign and for all the others. We'll only have the familiar, even the most perfect of news, of never has beens but feels like always & forever has. With us never a question to the other but a smile knowledge heart palpitate, palpitate, palpitate. You to my forever mind innerflesh. Your remarking tongue sews me open.

orange cream mimosas

Just a silent winter I let about. The pretty shrinking nights capsize by a snow bout, fluff about a dark wind shorn the night gown down. It is for all the languages we speak. For all the feathers shred. The dark underlined paths, and the red fallow splits in snow-breaks. Hellow, tingling caller. Tingle thing collar.

nice in bed
knives in bed