Blood vessels-
I think of you guys as out of a crying or laughing
cut garlands, which open and fall down into the cone curled
Lake. Now it is too late. bone-
I think of you as long noses from puppets, on four threads
led by a bright one, labyrinthine forest. Muscles-
I think of you guys as two maple propellers, that a breeze opens
the nose is stuck, before a striker in crampons approaches. heart-
you could be a peacock, the one with a spread fan crown of iridescent
Blue patrolled heavily through the courtyard. Flutters. belly-
I imagine you as a room, which a quirky antiquarian lives in,
Created with priceless clutter. But you need
not to fancy yourself. Ears-
you are balconies for me, who doused after a broken voice
want to be with breathing pauses between operas, who get lost. Synapses- (whatever you are)
I think of you as tadpoles, those out in a shaker
twilight fidget with sugared milkshake, while the frogs of Gémenos with sparkling
Necks comfortably hook the stone of the bust of Pascal. I think! eyes-
you are two sunflowers on stalks, you bow easily and scattered
black cores, from which sunflowers rise again from stalks. I
admire yourselves at your opaque idleness. Lungs-
you are two honeycombs, the one full of honey for the sigh, the other
a scraper, around the ice balls from the wing
to scratch. chest-
Symbolschwangere, Soft, absorbed everything hard in you and
Young swallows shiver agelessly. Oh yes, Glands-
Hinterland Chanel-Puffer, Technicolor-Scream in Testosteron,
gray wimmer estrogen, hands-
the ants on me, little everyday officials. Compare brilliantly
with hinge. Feet-
my best! Good-natured horned ones, Fire squirrels on the home stretch.
(7.9.2016)
Unfortunately overloaded, MJS.