It's what his right arm is for. Engraving souls. Buckle weeds that breach and spores seek a definite. Move my quilt to the crescent again. I lay atop the nettle pave. There is a best way to ward them. I tried, she didn't, so it learnt me. Broad seven daylight goes about the spider. Who lives now for beaded lavender. I face the daylight. I am scarlet with these atomists. See how we cannot stop and must we stop to see again. I am alone with the roses. I learned. I have been stopping time.
The castle is contagious and fears my heart restarting. I cast away somewhere to embarrassing distillation. Magic has no decorum. Like morning tea and toast — disgusting. To conquer a self. Oh god must we. She grabs at the blue bushes till we are every bit broken. Stones round my ankles it remains your lake. Eyes on the banks. The more the merrier. I have created a diviner who simply cannot drown. The tea is hot and this draws you in. Nettle tea tastes like life.
He goes spiralling round the garden. I lie sideward at the bed and take off the boots. I cannot stop you now. Looking for your history you'll find many skirts to climb up. Don't worry I have weeds to eat. I re-source like elastic. If you immediately stand on head gravity finds its funnel. You taught me this. Now fuck off and film it. It's someone's day at school. I'm looking to re-align the fences. He has to use a stick to bat the bushes. At war with old trees. Upon exit caress the willow.
I cannot stand the weight of clambering. The chamber must hollow. I'd rather sleep roofless than burn the piano. I climb in the zither with the sympathetic strings.
Meanwhile blindly a battle ensues. It's an age old duality of left over lunches. Really they both want me to live. But they won't take off their jackets. They don't let me stop them. Lovers are everywhere and we are becoming them. To cap it all there is no room. This redundant capital. Come in. I am a hundred flags the same colour. She has nothing to do with me. Lay on the leaves let the lacy blanket. To bury my cloak for her. It is no mean feat. It is a process.
Just then and many months later — a stop — she has birth day and we chorus.
"The more beer you drink the cleverer you get! Hooray!"
We all count 3 roll over and fall out the bed. Nothing thins like alcohol he said. This is that blue chipped hatch that asked you to get in. This is a cold shoulder at five to eight and a realization — England's fucking great! It is chalked in the hill and a symbol of fertility. One day I will get in to the clambering. But now there is only a ladder and a roof to watch Perseides falling.
This man is a window dream of the wide open. At night time the birds go about out there and sometimes I am allowed them. I too can bind the wings my baker I equally say beware. Some 4am the panes will break from contempt of the multiplying. This life we love. Journey must the sea so broad. Even at water level I fear the claws to top of head. Their lovers' beaks creep in my bin bag. Us in the orchard we know we didn't kill any. But still the friends to tell things. Users.
He's at sea when he's at sea. When he's at sea he is dead. I go to the sea yet see not still. Where is he? Why are we landing this way up? Three tears on my shoulder you grieve grandmamma. Your economy frightens me. I am told I turn to restraint very well. Tie my hands anywhere. No not now I desire a cold question.
A woman must. Plait the hair between two bands and snip them for charity. Look if you have to fight you will. Tell me how he's been drinking. Wait wait wait a minute an ace can't kill ya. It's like a mouse eating an elephant. Ring me to hear a remarkable story we were in situation of situations. They are looking for machines to rinse. They are poets with penny pies making a sleight of hand. Wye's a fake Rye. Maybe Rye's a fake Wye! Maybe I'd like to burn 'em both.
So to land at the rebirth. You shouldn't get your books off the shelf. Honesty let me. You so far have worked as a herd for looking. Wish mystics off these pink lips. Hoofed universe prick a nostril on the plum tree. You will reach for her garden. She is already famous in universe of last life time. This rain is wet. This is the warning note. Love is an excuse pinned down to contrast. That thing that takes you elsewhere. That is your freedom leaning over the bath disguised as a giants head.
Land and air brave the challenge to see me propelled out a sixth floor window. I see things in reverse and how you fast forward. This is a complicated sequence of non events. Compelled to share what they said "Prepare your self." He pulled open my mouth and said "Accusation is easy." Time is ticking unapproachably. Call me scheming but I know what I like. Things will then freeze to the spot. A conspirer is present and nothing may ever come of it. Leaden boat release me
We work together in sunlight under the acers. Did we cling fingers and thumb to the roof of the last train. Where is the conversation if not right here. Seeing things here is not the issue. When life is on the line we do not make phone calls. Adulthood is over. Everything re everything id. Board a train and let the momentum ease. Let them get strong in the sun. Let them work at the locks and feel local. Anything that is not that black distance. Let us visit our allotment another time from tonight.
A makeshift facelift — put a peg on your back! She's a viper. The feeling is set in the alone. Walk the broads the four still on the stone. "You know what, he felt like a cardboard box. I think I went out with him because it was winter. Then when he turned inside out I wanted to kill him with love". None of us remember one of us being cut in half. Inspire me in life and death alike. It might be true or it might not. The land is always changing. That lighthouse used to tip the jetty. If we sail that way today we won't touch land till the North Pole.
Still on a boat? Yeah, landlocked. I'm attracted to anything that distracts me. Clouds align the sun up so that he reads my poem. Coming home Circinus shifts faster than loyalty reads. Christ do they want the lot. I auction myself as thus and push bike to the winning bidder. Combing him out the hair is a reliable attraction. Harmony or countermelody I have seen too much of both already. Turned left eye from Aunty Rose you see. He embodies a tacit apogee to spite my passions. This must end right now.
In the six week summer we would callous and crave this fever. Tracks by the ballast decreeing facts not facts. We warriors. D'you get me? Flick ash out a window rot apples bite fingers nicely. All dreams and fears are a product of love making here in this room we kneel in. They are screeching someone others shit back to me. Nothing will recur again. Nothing is recurring.