crap shoot

dry boot

correct me if i'm right

you sniveling little stingypants

spot on, butternut!

beware soaked struts!

candy girls

Little candy pastilles with ruffles
and black bandit masks. Palest legs
more like wisps than sticks.
More like ethereal spindles,
ghosting into that mysterious swamp...


Song of Peacock Feathers/

wet lips to writhe a little
drink the buried/ chapped
I cannot possibly----therefore
I must
those horrid scenes of Faust

white screens of pleasure
an ending without

a mockery, slow
her plush bed, my clothes
disheveled--become a powerless
flame--suprasensual--beat faster

between the thighs--what claws out of flesh
will suffice as a salve upon our lips
will suffice as a song of woman
innocuous & rife

a body blended

sexify me his intentions are warped i wanna fall into your puddles and investigate a mouth full of cravings