Hinged to forgetfulness
like a door,
she slowly closed out of
sight,
and she was the woman I loved,
but too many times she slept like
a mechanical deer in my caresses,
and I ached in the metal silence
of her dreams.
-Hinged To Forgetfulness Like A Door.
The sweet juices of your mouth
are like castles bathed in honey.
I've never had it done so gently before.
You have put a circle of castles
around my penis and you swirl them
like sunlight on the wings of birds.
-I've Never Had It Done So Gently Before.
a presence inspired by the production of perpetual passion. or perhaps vice versa. processual prose for the preservation of captivating moments. memory must exist to exist. i capture moments to make it so. "claudelean are you awake?" always. "if you could have one wish what would it be?" for an instant to forget my body. with a mind of material, i attempt to write out what is within. it helps me forget my body to make matter.
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