Sprout and see men. Kilt the windings
wrenched. I remember seeing you exposed
by an updraft. I remember profound belief
dangled of my busy imaginarium. And at
this I felt dizzy. I reached down into a spirit
trough to gown in busty head in melt eyelid
that left a bit of foam. We are sprung from
the winter of our shaving slide. Beard
and bushy eyebrow. I thought you had been
given a new uplift a blossom that rose
of your droop and slump. There are layers
into joyfulness. Awesome peek into glee.
And you have restored my constellations
as I lay and pull burly quiver. I dissolve
into a thousandth kilt. Beheld now. Bent.
So handsome. Slim to bag pipe in a pocket.