Chahut skin resonates
On bones scattered hut
Paths of saliva
In parenthesis lip
jangling lidocaine
Reversal of destiny forged
I see him double
child sheep
Prostrate to clear eye In their Sunday best glades
In his makeshift bed
He has made his voice
He said: "My house is a raft," the source
And through her mouth And
source violone
me Until the night of offal
O hearts plagiarism, where beaches roped
The sea has dreamed:
him dressed in his anagrams
questioned the stone of my drowsy sleep
While on a hopscotch
I took the dimensions of his love for her sewing
face downstream.
0 comments:
Post a Comment