Raygun...Naked Raygun

Sexy with five's glissando and long as the sun pinks: Weeping and wait to smoke guilt: The static from our lipstick, this cellophane will become a salvo of violet beginning: Radiant for clanging ennui, right?: The bending night

Breathless, spangled of aeronautics; Flames not visible just because we sometimes say lovely, silver things: Therefore with a sigh the shape of architectures that smell like what is destined to leer forever: Blue wrinkles: It is the star vibrating on the path to what it seems to mean: Street noises neon confused legs, the train's simple heart, where there is acephalous: Please surge through the cherry shawl: Pray to sultry forms and quartal whenever possible: A nova, when examined closely, a rocket's sheer tonight, our most cherished ideas are sopping wet and paranoid: Teeth leaking a filmy horizon, the future may climb the dispersal drunk like the second promise of wholeness: Until then, suture on a cave wall like whatever is theoretical about a saxophone

One letter to sad dust: Money's alumni, no clothing left alive, as is the custom in rock-steady's ribcage: And feminine sweats the people, coagulate with random, brown locks of hair: The inner foliage, class-war perineum, this novel of scarred, circular thirst: Swollen neurons a supine year of phantasm and green, oily heights resting their bloodied eyelids before dying in the brightest thighs: wavering the ratio of joy to drink the tower, says the canvas or a shining beard: Sexual arcs of light will allow this guitar to dream again

For lucid staccato, thereby having narcissus another struggling day, faces are clearly numbered: The mutant, creamiest now, one beat behind a cigarette's trembling mile of fingers: It polarizes what is spat from the blade's gleam and leaves the odds to tango on the surface of the river below: A powdery utopia muttering eyes without contravening the whisper, they can dissolve any prophecy: Blonde and beautiful, roaring like the mesh of cool lips

Over gagged aquamarine: Many fragments to zero, the variegated dome that walks alongside your candelabra, pushes atoms, genuine eights: A captured palimpsest can also function as a desperate gasp after all the original traces of hubris have been purged: The resulting tequila of forever crackles another pale cheek, then shines again: Octaves gently stroke the evening, an echo discovers how to breathe

Manticore the process: I can't swallow the cluster of sacraments in receding piles of hallucinated, lonely flesh: The scent discernible in rows of pallor beyond stereo geometry: Translucent aircraft pressing on the first hush in orgone...

An intractable noir to ask this could be metal?: The sweetest barricade, twenty to various nocturnal: Occult swathes tryst your bruises easily, and Iam suddenly what is most digital about you and your magic nylons

When jewelled breasts swoop and drone, starlight the steel-riveted, drifting stage of the Cartesian nerve: Dark nipples reflex to opus the trail of burning candles (a decent elephant), zooming along into the whitest illusion grace has to offer, live and direct: Apertures orchestra, a day on their dubbed mouths vanish the affirmative: They call it a left hand, isosceles of complexion, astral and more deviant senses shocked into flight: Stained-glass feminism doesn't dangle from the besotten isle, all feathery rhythms and sparkling eyes from outside's brunette quirk, a tender sip at a warmth we are struggling to labyrinth: This year will fold into a new key, hours to wrestle bright-blue theories of labia, an orange neck: Single discs ostensibly waiting here all day for the sun to sigh billions of champagne cells: Their rippling, bubbly web will machine into a genuine act of communion, the myriad forms of silence between love's raygun...naked raygun