Swoon | James D. Autio

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.
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