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i give my blood
golden piles,heaving trunks,she's a little mystery
so grow slowly magnificent leaf
the hearth sprouts a cough of giddy spit
(when the sun dies the earth drunk of quiet; the trees clamour
for some moon blood) and the hounds are mouths foaming
all over the ambrosia flecks of open windows greeting summers breath
she,s some fruit. grown supple flesh singing stinging beads of salty
liqueur. taste. lips gripping stunning liquid. in all my cuts. she's the paste.
what a bounty; these eyes. seems where the stars lay. glittering
specks. irresolute laughter. the timid sister of a day gone by
how make i for you
an earth more perfect
than this? i give my blood
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