it must have been 49 nights running

no, none of us glow rumbling rhythms just bounce skyways through dust and sunlight broken open (you call oceans afterlives) and we just bounce just bounce just bounce one long way winding down away this is only so soothing as something drawn from the aging mud (then dipped slowly in smiles)

two rooms:

one slow squeezed archway opens up and you see (like all of us) a square room with pillows scattered about cushioning the blow yes blow just end you up shining yawns outwards

sleeping

then causeways bend a door falls forth you just bend just bend to ease on in this way leads to everywhere (but only all at once)

of course, these are only small palaces on the terrace where even dogs cry.

i am trying to open worlds like one reaches to open the gateway of a woman's legs and all of it is so tentative (like renting not buying)

at least once in your life you should

(and did)

so i waited long and hard like belly laughs pulling stretch marks into your skin so easy to slow so hard to stop so easy to slow so hard to stop so easy to slow so hard to stop

(you do)


2005-10-01 | 9:48 p.m.
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