Sonnets—Realities II

my strength becoming wistful in a glib

girl i consider her a leaf
                           thinks
of the sky, my mind takes to nib
-bling,of her posture.  (As an eye winks).

and almost i refrain from jumbling her
flesh whose casual mouth’s coy rooting
dies also.  (my loveFist in her knuckling

thighs,
       with a sharp indecent stir
unclenches

            into fingers....she too is tired.
Not of me.   The eyes which biggish loll

the hands’ will tumbling into shall

—and Love ’s a coach with gilt hopeless wheels mired
where sits rigidly her body’s doll
gay exactly perishing sexual,