(no subject)

i hope you do not mind if i plan to get thoroughly drunk on friday night and tell you all my secrets, though i have none because right now i am more alive than ever, with an abundance of manias pushing the bone hype of each day further and further up the peak of lovingness. then, every evening, a loose-backed giant slumber flop falls and regenerates in leafy pools, lying still, with lightning afterimage inside his dark shut eyes.

last night the moon unveiled like a slow breast while you whistled at bats.  rainbeats played the lake and we heard them before drops licked our untoweled skins.