The world swelling
big gourd fleshy bulk...

The sunflower hangs
its head, grown heavy with seeds...

As steeliness sinks deeper into fog,
the brine and brush of grey enfolding grey...

Twilight folds its apron, and
tucks away patches of sun...

It's because I can't write
a poem about love...

See
the cold...

Low tones through thin walls, the
bouncing Germanic rhythms of my mate...

With the subtlest flick,
I've turned you on...

Limbs folded back in
fiendish prayer, she twists...

The branches crack the
blue egg of the sky, strike...

I had a dream once that was red, and gold,
and infinite shades of blue...

Cats are the girls who stir their coffee
with a tiny straw and a flick of the tongue, who...