The Day Of Fire Is

One Can't Build Little White Picket Fences To Keep Nightmares Out.

You Lay, A Small Knuckle On My White Bed; Lay, That Fist Like A Snail, Small And Strong At My Breast. Your Lips Are Animals; You Are Fed With Love. At First, Hunger Is Not Wrong.

Need Is Not Quite Belief.

I Love The Word Warm. It Is Almost Unbearable-- So Moist And Breathlike.

Love Your Self's Self Where It Lives.