.. I want the belly of the moon,
the soft sheer glow,
the immense dripping edge of the night's darkness and the sky's unyielding heat..
I want to be the sweat clinging between their thighs, and as they fuck,
I want to hear God swearing
with a tremendous snarl,
his voice echoing from the tips of the Northern lights,
cascading around me as I melt into thousands of heavy droplets.
I want calligraphy for skin and a lion's bloody, dusty mane for a voice.
I want to witness everything seamlessly, where time becomes nothing.
I want to watch jellyfish riding mighty percherons through the deserted valleys of West Blocton.
I want to protectively stroke the fine hair of a baby child with my fingertips.
I want relive the dreams of my youngness.
The squirting splendid dreams of rustic cabins.
I want to kiss the banks of oceans with my strudy feet, and study archeology and alchemy until I am very old.
Scouring for the bones and relics of our abandoned truths.
Holding them up with fragile hands, quivering with rage and hardened affection.
Myself and my thrusting heart.. neither kneeling nor perishing calmly.
Andrew Tipton
