I. Beneath the Kings feet we playIt is night nowone of the quiet timeswhen the we and the Krautsstop the madness if for just a nightthe shelling, shoo..
upon the autumn windcomes the rustle of leavesand they swirl at my feetin eddiesof swishes and swirlsit tickles my neckbrings electricity to my soulan..
breath comespantingnails digging intomy backi press my lipsto your necktravelling downteeth bitingyour hardened nipplestars in your eyesburning bright..
my hands are full of hermy mouth is tracing hermy tongue tasting heris this what drowning feels like?once one's lungs are fulland blissful acceptance ..
In the dim light of the hotel roomcan I begin that journeythat begins with my hand pressedagainst her heartdo I travel up to lines on her faceof joy, ..