and formulaic
fast
and descending, drum rolls, o drum rolls
the purest
of all sensations
intuit now
imagine
your fingers skiing this skin
scanning
half bumps of logic, light, of light, the calm text of you
I touched a silver birch in the street with the back of my hand and it was your skin last night
your outer organ loud with massages
purest
diapason
purest flute
deteriorating into
white noise, white