Love Poetry For Couple

On the way home from art school she stopped to shave off a piece of her hair. The skin was new under there, soft as soft bristle, a new field of thought. She started meeting with a living room of women, drinking tea without the buzz. They invented hand gestures so everyone could talk at once. This means, I hear you. They talked about all the things they had and did, which others didn�t and

for P. J. Harvey Those swish-swish hips Buttocks swelling in suit pants Brief exposure of elliptical breast Guitar thrust! And thrust again! Flick back of black, black hair Angle-faced with red lipstick Lopsided grin from ear-to-ear mouth I want escape and release! Take me white-suited goddess, Take me over with your song! I am sacrifice to your guitar slinging, I want to lick its strings

A lyrebird Swift-footed it stops behind a mountain ash. All genres are destroyed at last. History, mistakes, swallowed up in a nominal grub. The slow wild alcoholics of the nineteenth dare make no reply. I tip my beak to the sky. A nest-building lament starts up. It's humans taking up too much room. Swift-footed it stops behind a mountain ash. The enclosed imagination buys a hunting