Poems of Love

Like a roof and air, like water and fire...

Embrace by the night

The clear beautiful blue night of passion

Foucault

The sticky pleasure Of confession comes From the mute moment before, The 'oh, I mustn't, It would be wrong. Bad.' Foucault said this. I think it's sexy. I get all my best thoughts

Sputting

Sputting And if you are sick in your own mouth a little what does it matter – if you spit it off bridges aiming for the feeling females.

Mark your calendars

Mark your calendars Come gravediggers! Find us something beautiful to mark out and call at morning that this is a yawp, that this is a naming.

the sounds of music

notes tumble and slide like waterfalls in their youth. it is the sound of calling, back, to the knowledge of milleniums.
Cherry

walking the dog

He brought my dog back, so i thanked him, scruffy little thing, cocky as the three crows standing there tormenting Pete.

Grumblin Tummy

My tummy is a grumblin Oh, what will I do. All this roarin and rumblin I've got to find food.

Hope

The door the the heart With windows for eyes

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