Writing at dusk

Now we are Writing

we are moving our symbols as if writing

as if  against the ruins of light 

as if the world were the cave and fire...

 or mere ashes in the tongue of bodies

looking for that First saliva

mouth-to-mouth

Now we are the Art of Writing 

on the very warm skin and friction of skin

infinitely otherwise infinitely more than kisses

looking for the First saliva

mouth-to-mouth

Now Writing is the Being of Becoming 

among Resting and trembling on rocks 

on very warm and ever more liquid rocks

This is my body on your tongue looking for the Future

Now the Past fears the Empire of the Future

the new Power of the First saliva

mouth-to-mouth 

Now Writing is Where you mean it All

and when my fear waits for a new heart of ours

you drink the alcohol among and between possibilities

you can and cannot trust in words and caresses on earth

you can and cannot burn your lips through the First saliva

mouth-to-mouth and attain forever 

the pure flesh of flamme

there is Writing against the light, the shade, the very core of darkness. Do not Cross the Alphabet! 

There are the oscillating symbols and a female anxiety in the desert,  meaning more than touching with the silence of the Alphabet: bare breasts and bare hands, altogether. 

Do not Cross the Alphabet! 

despite the immense nonsense 

off-shore 

abstract open godless caress

or trust

mouth-to-mouth