That melt heart wicked ruminant

That melt heart wicked ruminant, that tremor; have known the blanker uncertainty, or means to recalculate and to give voice. Think of a hand gripped or a heel raised – you’ve criminalized your frank hunger. I can call you – you lay in a smaller light, and hampered by dream-colic. There’s a beaten, a rasp where the within has a gossoon style – I have a used word where the night is at swell, I can facilitate the use of a thing where the lack is apparent.

Having quietly heard a slattern chord, twitch non-tonal sound – I’ll declare, resist and sudden scheme a midden blame. You’re apart; whole; unnecessary the stretch but a way to lay claim, a way to handle an element. Itch where a foot crowds or crows in a fleck – this is sound for its sake, I have a means to number and name.

We have numismatic claim; we’re priapic. Call to mind a beastly goat/ghost/god – you know it has name and it’s neither hale nor mean to embed the real moron, the feeble-mind is abroad and you’d do well to be aware. Tool or cast words – I need to find a thread, a rook, a flushed awl.

Swift; flow or threaten at the mooring. Feel sound light, you’d have burdened it or laid it out along the central line. Call scooped nest temporary, call scoped rest hallowed – I can see where the midden line edges and the varnish peels, I have stepped. Flat beam of morning, misjudged or astonished at the slope.

Thinking Sinking

Some note-taking raises a mark on the subject. there are annotations creeping under the skin [sucking / lapping], they are crowded at gullet. You cause bold ejaculation! - call it a dropsied sense of what can be said or done, twice baked [deletia] where we dripped and homed. The beacon of your unspoken terms and an unlined notepad.

A discourse; a means of speechifying, spreading the blood of the thing. Call it a work, yes, one might feel honour-bound or blighted to do it some justice as it towers. No - a means to horror back through. Strip it. Desnude, debag. A way to case the simpler terms and to start.

It's closeness makes bold. Years now have given a break to the bidden ghosts, swaggering homonculi. Ennobled by dread. Peopling a cough. Alliteration made characters of them all.

Stumbling in the darkness - this waits, says it. What's all the rage? Call the interior humbling, a thing that has a term. Have it called out, have it declared or laid bare - the intention disposed of one Sunday wine-red morning as the edge rolled back. Met like a bone breaks. I've the sand, the stones - you've flint and the way it tesselates, the pave defined. I will emerge light all the hours we find and make.

hostaged by the moved - in light-dazed rooms atop a dead street allow the mind to steam and bend a curve in the wood, the joiner's art accomplished as the elements are bound ethic. Aligned and plastered. Not composition - for / at once. Flat entwinement. Marinade the frame where yours ends and siphon the better longings.

While I revisit the things you don't know you've left in me - the sacking of you and the elements. Wonder how your skin smells at all other moments of the day. Seduction; and the death of anecdote. Fall thrice over for the same inset stipple of your while. As you state and rail, I will paint blonde skies with the replicas, and will harrow (narrow?) the unset. An agreement starting in words forgotten then remade from the set bind - a term to adjoin or entreaty. The unpolished made perfect, bound and won, as the day wanes.