Tears During A Tremor Poem by James McLain

my love I cannot individually help it my their for me sometimes
I drink you by the center where you are wet and oily the
feeling of heat I /lass are the days and
I feel your day by your cylinder heads it'; s center of operation
as to him makes while you prolong outside around inflated
as what made you lost in the thought any way and
it thus opened you to the top and of the rich person;
a person like the soft wet ground;
how it s' is hung moist around my tree of cedar as well and
each day your face when it comes as it makes on him;
encourages you to recall me what is still left to come
as it leaves you very with lt's interior and
these noises;
I that some times make hearing your wet noises as well; as jumping they make and suction,
whistling halfway of the afterwords draw side with you above it vastness the knowledge makes you the good and
then you guide the finger above the head gasket and reasons
thus the hot sun burns it encourages you to cry more and
I cannot help the gears during your tremor
during the gathering; during the kisses they make and
in the center your cylinder heads as they make it very wet and
all that I can make is to embrace the ring specification far;
although more than you made and inflated they are very well and
will sleep knowing that I will kiss you there;
they s' always extend and alleviate to the bottom and
you resting as you made it too the top of the hill.