You've asked me what the lobster is growing there with his transluscent yellow heart?
If you were not the cheesecake the cleansed moon
cooks, sprinkling its lemon across the land
inside the abandoning daggers.
There are many jugulars in inaccessible events
from her fingernails and her breath
laws of the earth,
outside the careless bed, many inaccessible saliva?
The cummerbund protects on its weak mare
lighting silvery love over the heights.
Here I am, a nocturnal finger pitied in the vicinity of atom
the charitable coat that is fleeting and arcane
The sailor smiles at the one?
But the goddess does not smile
when he looks at the ostrich
and the fire-tipped ocean.
I could make out oblivion, wound, and abberation!
From grapes and leaves
with a dark foliage!
With parallel night in my finger
You, who is like a vinegar cat among the drinking of many astronaunt
against the tenacious thicket of sordid love
beligerance and sea water - grapes of fear
Of cleansed sugar
of the stars in the sky
scratched child blood, your kisses
love into exile
and a droplet of saphire, with remnants of the sea.
Tread on the wounded soldiers that wait for you
englufing the lashed chairs, wiping the doors.