Monday, January 10, 2011

What Is So Bad About Lunch Meat

In the continued move of your Messenger without soul wakes

.


Mourning in your wake
cíframe in the word of your lips
swirl chrysalis
decrypts the air from my temples
of my heart for the joy

your mouth
carnivorous flower
my lips the word elixir
which cunning snake
crouches in a
outline of the folds of the tongue

eager to see against
light of the uncertain light
encrypted flows only
in darker downhole

your pubic hairs
skin brushing my hips forward
fertile semen
you
live fire sipping

cíframe major shocks
decode
my blood in the salty air
your imagination
you my belly encodes

and decodifícame
from the foramen
until the last suffix
unborn

encríptame in your laughter
and my pleasure rabid
tientos torn my amazing
stay silent in
your trails

.

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