All I Am Is The Trick Of

The Body Is A Damn Hard Thing To Kill.

... And My Love Stays Bitterly Glowing, Spasms Of It Will Not Sleep, And I Am Helpless And Thirsty And Need Shade But There Is No One To Cover Me- Not Even God.

Yet Love Enters My Blood Like An I.v., Dripping In Its Little White Moments.

The Little Girl Skipped By Under The Wrinkled Oak Leaves And Held Fast To A Replica Of Herself.

Thumbs Grow Into My Throat. I Wear Slaps Like A Spot Of Rouge.