sure to know


 it seems easy doesn't flipping verses like that
   the naked women their lingering thighs crushing
 pleasure desire not a petty poem  a heart strung mating  not
an easy off filter  second-hand curses nor the weird stone
 the mindless class privilege's barbell   the rugged foster of
cleaning amidst the torrent of

 but when her body came back arching up up and then lowering a span
bridge naked   before me her rocking tummy and her breasts pulled up to me mouth
  and I sucked then

------------------------ She wakes to his body. Naked as the sun. The sun's little fickle
Winding storm 'sortie des bras' mirrors the lament of her longing   ~

______________ She's never faker than when she's real   ~

__________________ No beauty like these ones the Montreal churn

their asses glowed in the street
    talking to me  ~