tragedy

warheads pressing in-formation causing her throat to swell and tighten building desire like cities digging tunnels too deeply disrespectfully into her earth creating openings and avalanches minute tragedies in her stomach leaving little flags where maybe something lies buried tragedy that has nowhere else to go… eat it or fuck it the catch cry as

time perfume

my hands are pungent cupping my face I inhale golden ochre fills me my heart a newly forming bowl on the wheel moistened now by the rich echo of a smell I can taste forming still… I lick my hand and drive my time machine back to 1978 a hot summer with brittle trees against

salty feet

do apples move? they roll from palm to palm be an apple with skin to lick and pierce with crisp flesh that parts float like an apple in the bath or on the sea bobbing between my salty feet

to contain

so soft are the edges that boil and slide inside the copper a sweet fragrance like sugar or moist tobacco begging your tongue to heat it to bravely risk stringent addiction tasting and…. moving like a wild snake coiling intelligence looping and falling willing to swell in gravy waves grasping the rim like a mouth

E. YES

I open my eye S Eeeeee. E YES wiser and wiser

The experiencer

I am the experiencer necromancer too wizard of the sky my feet are curved like moons I taste the surface of this earth or my imagination portaling through dissolution death seated in soft blooms innocent flying inside spread eagled in my sphere following the crows on course to blue star heart music a snaky illumination

The Perfect Game

hours I spent with my cheek against your spirit smoothing the walls of a private utopia a summer of thought sweet like balloons of sugar mouthful of music sometimes a note that matched my heart claiming me with words like sacred and heat now back from the platform in his throat where I sat waiting

le sucre le plus doux

to feel it sweeeeeep like a flying wasp beautiful and bold hovering above my bed eyeing me thoughtfully a virtue of vibration sprinkling by gold upon my pinkened cheek promise of liberation and or exquisite pain then a downward swoop wild laughing out of almost nowhere brushing me dangerously causing a swell of squeal to

merging stars

you are like an elixir and we are merging stars in one stolen breath at 8.24 abandon to beautiful then hours of sweet alone immersed stretched and alive quiet but for the soaring song of birds and the sound of worship pushing from my body in waves of deep base invitation softly stroking ancient pain

gone magic me

hold me in your crumbling arms I am nothing perfumed and placating slide me through the dust momentary corner smile on red heart face then gone magic me breathspark particles release from nowhere man his pipe is damp non existent pipe relief into black psychedelic portals in holographic space suit wild number 4 silver and