through the dirty windows too soft for their stones tangled bodies find eachother in the candlelights caress a twisted embrace lying on blue carpet shadows dance on the radiator she crawls towards the last cigarette as an almond-eyed python whispers sweetly in her ear “only fur” the cabbage is crying…

and so it is becoming a yearning stroke a saturated membrane riding a wave of amber flowing from bodies overgrown the endless and rapid existing of the hollow house walls entangled in a fossil a slumber of dreams of naked skin and spillage from our time, our songs skin piercing…

She is touched by their voices Closing the eyes to look into   one   another Adjusting retina, pulse and stories so we can fall deep And disentangle the senses from a big sleep Otherwise they stretch past each other in a dream of silence Drinking off the same caress…

your christmas gift is obligations of being water you must flow not with the current – but flow glisten – like with the sun everything else is illusions of the surface the nature of convection finding the pearls at the bottom of a furious ocean the outcasts – the forgotten…

at night death lies by my side like a shadow I dare not look but I imagine she is a spherical form of tiny black dots a dark mist in a slender human shape she reminds me a little of you when you’re dark and as she lies there by…

Oh little willow tree Green willow tree Why did you bloom so early?   Why did you bloom so early on Green willow tree Did worries weigh upon you all along?   Did you have many worries? Oh green willow tree Did your mother’s voice, so stern, Made you blossom…

on a mountain of naked human bodies draped in honey fire I taste your scorched unloved with a tongue of impaled desire then patiently dig my way down through lustful flesh in molten souls a thrumming sound of a pure calint mesh from wounds and dirt offerings that hurt to…

I exist with the skin of a wolf that weaves waves of intoxicating scents around my nest warm against my chest as I write write and write with flames as light I exist like a wolf haunted and delirious torn by barbed wire the small death, the furious fire I…

A part of my mind has formed that wasn’t there before. I refuse to process, scan, to try to grasp and discern, to categorize and evaluate. An insight, a step, a thought  A truth, a feeling, a song A wish, a look, a tear A fear, a breath, a path…

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . what were thcse frames that ncw seize to unexist all thcse adventurcus names left hcmeless in a mist lcst letters in rain ycu granted me with immense…