I read fulfillment, and my mouth is filled with honey.
His cock spooned down my throat enormous gulps of honey.
Many nights wolfed down cattle, gunpowder, and earth.
Two days sipped the light deepening from milk to honey.
The man I lived with for a year laughs after coming.
He finds it so funny to paw the ass for honey.
Redemption solicits the shitty work of sin.
Rebirth takes corpses in its tea, instead of honey.
My soul will study hard the satisfaction scriptures.
The beaver will build dams. The bee will make honey.
Give Jee excess, for nothing quite succeeds like it.
Push past the point of honey, there pours still more honey.
Push past the point of honey, come upon the hive,
the humming of the work, the stings, the hunk of honey.
comprendre / to understand
Pull the drawstring to close the sea into a lake.
The sea is wild but one can walk around the lake.
This small country is famous for its new bird park.
Wings clipped, the pink flamingoes flower on the lake.
These birds-of-paradise are trimmed to map the walks
so that their orange flames direct one to the lake.
A naked flame is dangerous. Replace the candle
with a lightbulb and hang the lantern over the lake.
The eye sees everything else at a proper distance.
The weathered sign says twenty miles more for the lake.
The lover stands in no location but his feet.
He is close to the lake. The lover is the lake.
To see flamingoes, flowers, flames as forms of sea,
you must strip to the skin and enter, Jee, the lake.