billyfivecrows

I offer you a blue
Tangerine. An ideal

Eyelid is one
That is fun

And doesn't do
It's job. It's a bit

Dark in here, a bit
Lip. I'll bite

First, rob you
Of the chance

To sleep. Stay
A while, at least

Come around.
I'll pray

To break
The skin, sky

Colored
Juice,

Anything
You
Choose

To meet,
To eat;

To begin with
I say

High. I have
To stretch

My mind just
A little way

To reach
Your
Words.

(Stand
Over there. Arms up

And alive,

Suprise
My suprise

With eyes.

We call that

Nice, or

Reality, or

Relapse

Of imagination...)

The venom sac of a bee.



improv. 26-07-'05
6.39-6.44 p.m.


***

Lovers; terracotta (A
Mary Frank sculpture.)
Not an iceberg; not
Grandiose, frozen
Life, but acceptance

Of cloud pre-
Supposing thunder,
Presuming rain and
Receiving. Earth

To mud, mud to blood;
A place of embrace, broken
At the neck
And replaced with
A mannered flesh

More like stillness

Dressed in two and saved.