Sunday

slut of immanence


___________so love's the immanence of your thought the her and nowness of your love



not just some gear-box you are getting for Christmas, but her body versus yer loneliness.


So is the supreme silence of your eyes

the simple harmonium of



the night bed like a willow weaver not that damn transcendent sign you are so
obssessed by. Not the case of the 'why does desire desire its own repression?' but, the question does Immanence desire its own behalf? does it wish its hiddenAway becomings?

Or is that just your hand?




Onan?