I Nymph of the Jungle In paradise Coarsened by moral capacities the slippery serpent Wet— In your dream

His tongue

II Argus-eyed an ideal observer no impartial spectator On the balance sheet of faith where covenants without the sword Are but words Shape-shifting in seasons Reminiscent dust particles blacken the surface Glass of moon III You’ve mingled mangled, bangled The dread locked— in my sick piss colored curls you’re a prelude to an afterthought where we might be in a moment Hanging on the lifeline of the aura of the story of Oh. IV Chaos theory is seduction the art a ring around your clavicle V We have lived together with insipid trepidation Tonguing the lips of narcotics Eating salmon by the river at night Purveying existential angst on the harvest Of a June full moon Promising promiscuity to eternity amantes sunt amentes— down the curve to the tip of ambiguity I’ll roll you up with my spine One vertebrae at a time VI Come to me I’ll keep you hard— inside a question idiosyncratically methodically erratically—ironically? Pathologically What would have been what could’ve been is never again moving around your house of miniatures unfolding paper cuts of abstraction when distraction isn’t enough When in the absence of color I wish to be green Let us me vexed

Tormented Mutually unrequited Let us be broken

by false dilemmas

silenced no more VII Wherever you are I’m minning Wherever I am there is very little sound Only truth in a dew-drop The sullen murmur of bees. Lie like a lily— Be still Bee still Be the larcenist that chokes My tomorrow VIII No compatibilism Departmentalism For your stoic sordid determinism Myopia Of you—Me—we— Only wine Only earth Only saltwater A sea of absolution This seed-ridden white water world

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