Moisturizing my legs by Lucas Regazzi

My fairweather hands

Now moan like new lovers


Holding my fleshliness

Who thought to call it

Hands are pews in the folds of our numbness

That sing, “Yes life!” At starry intervals

Ascending my thighs my funny belly

For oceans froth with guts

At every beginning of the world

The sky assembles

Our eyes or milk

For endless supping

Our endless body

Its presence-presence

What glorious joy

Our be our boulders

by the crease of a centrefold

I am your train in the night, bouncing from point A like rays on the hinge of my arm is it moonlight

Did I find god in the glint of my arm hairs

Was it your cum caked there