Cute

From The Roof Tops

forearms want to connect to hands to earth even ants
in the glass
i close my eyes to see the weather being painted on the sky
did u say giant morbidity of kite blades?
i let your night corridors move up my thighs

4 the one who can grow a new tongue

Tale of me, the fold maiden:

the kisses are nose bleeds.
I rent that terrace image,
his.
Or I cast his laugh away--
a hundred year stone
of sunny,

sign the seasons of we
with lips, some sheets, the slip of a bloodied star.

Where are you my darling?
Watching me from your cave bush as I launder the bees too cobbled for the castle's keep.

I miss your songs, the decoration of rose plates. The lovely coast of your frown. The sky is flat again and the vines are done with their slow green crawl.