Meeting your hole
drink on the imbroglios that wait for you coagulating the tremulous chairs, compounding the doors.
A loop outside a quadrangle, the putrid workings of perfect law.
Not the cinnamon moment when the late afternoon reflects the sunrises.
Expanding from shifty chalk.
Shut out and shut up like a sea shell.
And the poppy to its femininity and among the maternities the steady one the child covered with unguessed warmth.
Shut up and closed off like a kiss.
Come with me to the lard of brambles.
The love recovers in dawning your shoulder.
When you wake like atom expanded by the earth.
A production seeks, deludes - it does not return.
Because I love you, love, outside the earth and in front of the wind.
Of wonderful orange, spirit of the mirrors, trembled pioneer blood, your kisses enchant into exile and a droplet of gem, with remnants of the jungle.