Moon river, swollen river, river of starholeand bright, harness river, lichen river,river we velvet with our filth.River of butter and river of witches, rivercracked open careful like egg, or burstapart, unleashing its violet load.River mouths, river beds, every backforty creek, every crick, made oftrickles, made of synth, river of soundas vibration, river where we all get free.River that curve down a backbone.River through which I particle heat.Feathery and wet, lemony and loud,river that still smells skin, brownedaround a neck, softened with sweat.River you wear tight on your hips,given in private, or out in the open.River I dream about. River from the inside.River where we shouts the feeling.Septum river, bundle river, river of mercy, sometimes edging so far into        night the moon goes                                                                         (whoosh)                 dark.Yes, all night river, burnt sugar river.We pull the river into our bellies, wego out walking. We river in darknessas entire paw prints of color and light.Everything rivers in motion. Riverof holy, river of freaks, river wheremy fur belong to me. Softer thanit seem river. Honey and Vaseline river.Brown river, black river, off the map river.I will be there, printing textures of rockon the skin of me, belly down, face down.My god, it is good to be home.