Want. delicious blue shadow frantic after a cold spring, picture our language licking as women swim a please (don't stop) drunk iron beat goes mad. urge, made raw by weak blows most music sprays a white vacant stare: lust rips a light dress whole in want's car you crush beauty's next black rose. << | >> [words] [menu] [mail] ©Denise Angela Celeste 1997 |