I turn base metal into goldAn hour to always
Horizon to a bell jar
cherishing your life
Lions' paws tickle my hands
Their scratch soft on my neck
and clay-molded shoulders
Women climb
purgatories of my hips
to run a pink tongue
on my hundred nipples
Lions leap or I
allow men too, delirious
to smell nighttime moss
A proud question of
fear an answer to no question
an asking and telling
A tower founded in stars and
suckling grassy wet mud.
[saw this picture and decided to write a caption]
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