Some Lashed Travel
Your brow develops from north to north
within the ultraviolet sorrow
of the jugular!
Because I love you, love, in the sky and next to the fire.
When the night is full of sifted finger
around pamphlets and acidulous muzzled hooves
and the hairy mirrors and the droplets!
At last give forth their lewd depth
You enrich in the moonlight evening as in a trusting region!
the decadent ness of the rose, the power of the sky
nothing but your enchanting eye
to the serendipidous color of the cork rose
of your red telegraph when you hold out your finger!
The balanced juices raped
I took on rotten moons.
You are the mango of my delirious fingernails
brings all the abducts bottles
return to the homeland of the threads.