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Press close bare-bosom'd night-press close magnetic nourishing night!
That I walk up my stoop, I pause to consider if it really be, A morning-glory at my window satisfies me more than the datingsite topp 5 metaphysics of books.
Long enough have you dream'd contemptible dreams, Now I wash the gum from your eyes, You must habit yourself to the dazzle of the light and cam sex datoer of every moment of your life.
Apart from the pulling and hauling stands what I am, Stands amused, complacent, compassionating, idle, unitary, Looks down, is erect, or bends an arm on an impalpable certain rest, Looking with side-curved head curious what will come next, Both in and out of the game.On women fit for conception I start bigger and nimbler babes.A gigantic beauty of a stallion, fresh and responsive to my caresses, Head high in the forehead, wide between the ears, Limbs glossy and supple, tail dusting the ground, Eyes full of sparkling wickedness, ears finely cut, flexibly moving.I am not an earth nor an adjunct of an earth, I am the mate and companion of people, all just as immortal and fathomless as myself, (They do not know how immortal, but I know.) Every kind for itself and its own, for.It is not far, it is within reach, Perhaps you have been on it since you were born and did not know, Perhaps it is everywhere on water and on land.I do not press my fingers across my mouth, I keep as delicate around the bowels as around the head and heart, Copulation is no more rank to me than death.Do you guess I have some intricate purpose?Distant and dead resuscitate, They show as the dial or move as the hands of me, I am the clock myself.
Of the turbid pool that lies in the autumn forest, Of the moon that descends the steeps of the soughing twilight, Toss, sparkles of day and dusk-toss on the black stems that decay in the muck, Toss to the moaning gibberish of the dry limbs.
30 All truths wait in all things, They neither hasten their own delivery nor resist it, They do not need the obstetric forceps of the surgeon, The insignificant is as big to me as any, (What is less or more than a touch?) Logic and.
I beat and pound for the dead, I blow through my embouchures my loudest and gayest for them.O unspeakable passionate love.Not words of routine this song of mine, But abruptly to question, to leap beyond yet nearer bring; This printed and bound book-but the printer and the printing-office boy?I am there, I help, I came stretch'd atop of the load, I felt its soft jolts, one leg reclined on the other, I jump from the cross-beams and seize the clover and timothy, And roll head over heels and tangle my hair full.In the houses the dishes and fare and furniture-but the host and hostess, and the look out of their eyes?The sentries desert every other part of me, They have left me helpless to a red marauder, They all come to the headland to witness and assist against.
You there, impotent, loose in the knees, Open your scarf'd chops till I blow grit within you, Spread your palms and lift the flaps of your pockets, I am not to be denied, I compel, I have stores plenty and to spare, And any thing.
Shoulder your duds dear son, and I will mine, and let us hasten forth, Wonderful cities and free nations we shall fetch as.