the lights are dim not you

the lights are dim not you as it backs round
the fin the corner is spreading its love thigh weening its
arse belly over instant coffee cash corner lover

so you say ironic is the hour of blue plus kneeling
forts wheel the inclusive thrust of your button not these
seizures or levies but waybill partners marrying gold digging


folk that treasure the receipt the legal leaning of your kiss


between breathing your lugging rude holds high
its tearing face not the solitude of riggers but ranked pelts
measured by the ridge line of your mouth and lipping

this hour you drink any other time you breath its opening
this hour cropped and crisp as the share cropper's hold
not a navigated truss for weeding but moments she cannot

forgetting this pavement hugged by its orange owner
that's not what you care for or anyhow its all these and
more that make horses run thieves
climb clocks

deliver
blueberries and sullen fellows by a sliver saloon
you can call this pleasure but I know
its your thighs



marking time between the scissors where the gilt tagged mirror


~ ~ ~