no throttle

... discourse into the vein

but how in? the image

rides or bursts like a bust

of Ludwig Van dropped

from the super-story sky scraper

passion lines wheezing behind

or or or mashes across viscus

pink micrometer slugging

wrinkle above her crying eye

i'm not describing the image

to spite what i've said of course

this is love then again swirling

and red and rushed and swinging

i'll come back in time

in time

to spite what pains of before.