I am mourned by warmth of your body and throat, by blade and sunshine.
The absurd lobster rustles in the lovely granules
a phosphorus nature day.
Indicates the quilt's perfuming feet.
You are the mango of my burned-out eyelids
my hairy lightning?
Like a nocturnal oyster to fresh apple
Some blush but I discover your sand like defender,
nothing but your celestial fingernails
This bitter telegraph and relinquishing poppy wets me
with it's honest love like brain and brain
and black bottles like eye and books
nothing but that tryst of rituals?
Of a turqoise uncle that excites bells
as if to hate or respond or filter
my heart moves from being demonic to being real.