in the Spring Everything reaches up an  up   an    up

raw nerveendings sprout out of the ground an clutch at the reams of baby-blue atmosphere like a river rushing over them that takes their hands that yanks the plants by their hair pulling hard
                                                         it bruises them an they try hard to hide them
with bright-green leaves an coloured blossoms with spectacular profusions of make-up fresh-tipped fingerlings
that selfconsciously immaturely wonder  whisper   How do I look

Magnificent  is purred

Nono Really   Please

No pleases necessary

                   You look refreshed  Rambunctious  Id eat my dinner off your belly

Id eat it from between your legs with my fingers

pushing an pulling  sucking up every morsel

 

Id lick every delight from my fingers an wrists

Id savor each an every nuance

smell  every  perfume

 

an as the candled sunlight quivered in the west 

                                        becoming saturated    Id be anxious again

for tomorrows dinner an tomorrows tomorrow an tomorrows tomorrows bone an marrow

its warmed gobs of honey and tart seeds

pale under heady smoke

an the aroma of dusk

 

1900,  Thursday,  17  3. 16