Suck you shelter

Sneak me in – do you feel the heat
yes – apocalypse me in my clothes
compass-pin me to the room four corners
shelter me in your sunset temple
my lips around your second knuckle
sex me here a hundred hands
hell for leather, suck you bed
shelter you fire, burn you lips
fiery lakes we drank to be wicked
your gasps fit like a glove
if you ever breathe I’ll disappear
crumble me into powder
spread me on your lips
shelter me in night places
your body-like-a-glove
mouth me wicked
sneak in me
hear me sex
the burning bed
the hell-soaked kiss
heaven can’t breathe
suck hundred hands
take me galaxies
fit me in you
​we fit in sunset
apocalypse mouth
the lava and the magma
I melt in you and we flood the world

Shelter

Watch them as they scatter, see them as they fly. The sudden unison of it: as if controlled by one mind, one hand that plucks them all from the ground. I’m overcome suddenly with glee and this is the bonus: hold yourself close to the flickering fire and all you become is shadows, on the cave wall, a half-remembered philosophy. Countless worlds whisked past you in an instant, dizziness as a defence mechanism, allowing you to believe that each new one is as ephemeral and temporal as the last.   (read more...)

Mil-de-wed
 
slippery. ground is yielding,
groaning to a holt, in a muster,
musty wilderness of mud and leaf.
 
dead root of an oak, wrinkled
peers beneath the tread          
of squirrels, furrowing
 
through the muck, nesting into
the groove, burying into
a hole, cold as an egg yolk.