Before I give my body, I must give my thoughts, my mind, my dreams.

I said: I must remember this, being small.

What did my arms do before they held you?

Bright beads of red are rising through the ink, Hearts-blood bubbles smearing out into the black stream

I, love, I am the pure acetylene virgin attended by roses.

I don’t care about anyone, and the feeling is quite obviously mutual.

Please, I want so badly for the good things to happen.