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first cannibal after november blind to not be numb dream (four times) forgetfulness angel first morning laconic drown deep maidenhead milk this wake dark blue rotten scorpio little v. flea from me to you exit dry the lines left behind guilty sever desire falling slowly esperando dark spiral sparkle confetti bodies pound beats	laconic In silence, I hear the scratching of pen I know words form within but don't emerge; his mouth is still. In absence darkness falls; the words that died within his barren throat erupt, torrential: Beautiful honest blades of ink which need the paper's pulpy strength to find the wave to ride upon his tongue. And so the silence breaks, the blades slash silence into ribbons And these he wraps around me gently, boldly, his words of love the sweetest warm embrace; I think I'll linger here, within this silence. 5/94	next >