Between Each Pulse

On your pale hard tummy, lined up so neat I row, with the queens permission bloomers in plastic on E Bay. Those spears and swords used as pens, two brown, one pink and deep cobalt that blue... You reach out to rediscover the other I am that wandering traveler Scribbling tonight in frantic haste covered in your yellow Van Gogh paste. Are you sneaky and secretive in your nutritive contemplations. Do you want to wander under the stars for a little while? Between the pulse of the sun today and light Tommie is heavy and full this night. Basking golden in a silence that will never leave upon awaking then woman thus come when it does. Imagining all kinds of your imaginings... Lips between those short Greek words that only you could find monotheist use for, alas because of you, I squirm. And you and they on some named flatulent horse of a book. Look at me and it comes in a hurry blurry haze all over us and when I do you as want by your will, I am properly twisted.