did your tongue
With glossy hands, Nina cups his shy
low clouds over
a clear ceiling, the long Floating heavy yourself, (or a weightless slow
in this – room
there is no breath
you are Somebody and a sorrow, the image of my heart
except I can't trace a god.
you like being my Want.
)arms(above my head) the under of them so fragile they chain
that is what i like
as we roll through a twisty dream -
i like the slim ness
you ~ the way we move , smoothly around and away
------- ---- ----
but - later -
in the code market.. i die. Fall: to
how can you open me more?
on the white skin of Dellarina> reflections of red digits
how presumptuous of me
and the cool sky , slender with
Black Dress, White Room