maybe dream is sick
her dress tore in blackberry briers
I running over myself for her beauty.
did i coffin her in with sex
with sweaty gold flowers and thread?
escape the fate of apes/ this is uncensored monkey sex/ I orgasmed against you / squeaky clean
she is too small/ in a crib/ with lips sewn up/ heavy stitching black thread/ i listen to her heart thunder while others pass by/ hospital doors swing in and out/
when he comes to me in dreams it is next to tall wooden fences/ i scrape my finger down for splinters/ fresh wood/ he'll come/ the edges over his undershirt
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