float up the first line
under swollen aspiration a
ruse of skirts, white panties, to feather the ascent
is peach cans and undrinkable tea
the breasts could be swollen
or just my eyes below the haunt
of shadow figures needing to alert them
that I have awoken, to sudden, grip
hips that repel me but here I’ll
press softly fingers to tackle
space, immense I’ll be helpless
in your myriad visions . there
slide reels of legendary flesh
that could knead brain ripe
at any untrusty moment
a peak at life beyond oddly returned phone calls
a peak of life but here I am
I’ll go boom boom
for all my meaningful passions
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