In the corner the edges
Are deep and blue
Rivers of metal
And unadheased glue
My heart has Indian eyes of three
As I watch you push the color red
Here behind the succulent view
Of that which keeps others
Bubbling
The branches and wisps
Where capillaries flow
Outside of the chambers
And under the snow
Of my body falling
Upwards into a
Tornado of
Smoke
With you
In the shape of
A scent that
Is luscious
A dream of brown skin
That is precious
An occasion of bliss
That is pure with
Impressions
Of love
All over my body
© GÄ
Poétique 