Your moth-cloud dreams in,
we went up like soot,
soaked in gasoline.
Yesterday’s thick ejaculation
mixed with a bundle of
memories,
take me,
tell me!
Every day, the body gives up the ghost,
sui juris. Take me!
White purse.
Sweet essence under strange sheets.
Your cotton terrorizes me.
I wrap long, and split,
I’m weak,
I’m weak.
One day grows under soil,
feeding on a seed.
Where the Earth wants to plants us,
we harvest what we reap…
and clouds speak in tongue,
a simple, little speech.
I know I’ve begged before,
but take me.
Take me!!
