go on       read me.

I can smell the essential moan 
     beneath her winter breast

gorgeous milk whispers
     deliriously delicately

we watch a frantic void
     as she urges our languid power through

did you use her?

I think I could love you

leave me

mother never recalled the sordid pink garden

enormous language pounding raw true sweat

wanting sweetly as bare and smooth as summer

crush the blow puppy

Back to my home page.