sweat into my self , please
drift around my ribs , please
roll past my skin , please
the lightest sense of highness , the roundest sense of presence ... keep falling into the violet , please
you’ll reach me wading in there , a specific core , a familiar fleshy gel , an inner redness , supple screws , snail-shaped , the only way to get there is spiraling

and wouldn’t it be better to mesh into it ?
s w i m. into its webby sparkle ? bathe in the -ness of it ?
:
shimmer it’s metallic surface ... artifice never circled so rarely , sinuous angers pacified by hums of runged organ tubes ... a low frequency , wraps into your coiled spine