Living Beyond Limits 
Love Song
You’ve got nice knees.
Your black shoes shine like taxis.
You are the opposite of
all farting and foulness.
Your exciting hair
is like a special moss,
on your chest are two soft medals
like pink half-crowns under your dress.
Your smell is far beyond
the perfumes at parties,
your eyes nail me
on a cross of waiting. Hard is
the way of the worshipper.
But the heart line on my hand
foretold you:
In your army of lovers
I am a private soldier.
Image: all my loving by ~ntscha
Out of your whole life give but a moment!
All of your life that has gone before,
All to come after it, — so you ignore,
He has his lips pressed solidly against her cheek, his eyes are wide open, though, and she, too,
gazes into the distance, or at least is nowhere in the fragile composition they otherwise create.
They’re at that stage where so much desire streams between them, so much frank need and want,
so much absorption in the other and the self and the self-admiring entity and unity they make—
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