George Murdock Biography

I dream of you open like the pale Lotus flower
The petals of your nether lips moist with
dew drops of honey nectar
your inner flesh luscious and splayed
...

Speaking above them they could not hear me
as I raged and shrieked in tongues
my head was like a fountain
words like feathers floated down
...

One day it was familiar but not home
it had turned that way
while he was at work
the first thing he noticed
...

I fall into the green pools of your eyes
once again
like crimson tipped rose petals into a violent stream
rushed away from sensibility
...

I must climb you like a spine
revel in you like a yodeler in a cave
devote a continent to you
have no conscience about driving
...