O darling, o darling in this cage you’ll never...
There was a man...

Your breasts are
mountain haves of honey and zest...

The dissemination of bullets seeded the womb of...
the land’s arms opened...

Even though blindfolded to that
it is only ourselves...

I am happening
as I look at my watch...

Space is as the result of our disunion
the scatter of our holy communion...

Lets conspire with this pavement
against our distances...

It was always drilling in his brain,
_the woodpecker of the clock...

My eyes long to thrust this refulgent sight,
this adsorbent scene...

The fruit to die for:
The apple of neighbour’s bough...

The dance
was every improvisation between solid and ethereal...

For the sake of silence,
we have to distance ourselves...