Come back to me, you said, the expanse o my heart is
your home, and the fields wherein the green spirits roam--
the running through sunshine and streaky happiness
into the made up pastures which afford me all the room
to spend such time as to speak with you, sharing this
Peace I make within myself and outside of these bounds
hookuped to the wires, worthy of eachother, companions--

little mutant hearts beat in time and rhyme to music.
precious tiny moving parts between us like our arms.
the beautiful healing light and the bolt of lightning ...

where my favorite face recovers in the rain and suds
the guttural moans, torn from the broken windows
with blood on the lips of what i could never mention,
unable to dismiss the nagging sensation that it means
far much more than anyone imagines: and so, like
a ghost, or something attached to the wheel, rides
the currents in the skies, and makes its meal the love
which cries from below, unable to even understand it--

little mutant hearts beat in time and rhyme to music.
precious tiny moving parts between us like our arms.
the beautiful deadly dark, and the booming of thunder. ...