The page in which the body of the poem rested presented a field empty and open to anything. The body flowed on the field, not bound and stiff like a b...ilding, but malleable and moving. And as each breath has its own length, with inhalation being various distances between the lines, his pages rarely held a line to the left margin. Lines started in the middle, near the right margin or occasionally at the left. Reading them, he gave them the pauses expressed by the distances from each other on the. You feel a light breath blow across the end as the hand keeps working the flesh of your cock up and down…. The light touch of the tip of a tongue makes you gasp and thrust you hips up invitingly…. A moist warm pair of lips envelopes the end in response and a wet tongue circles the tip before slipping under your foreskin…. Again you groan this time harder…. The mouth moves down your shaft sucking greedily….. You feel an unexpected weight on the arms of the chair and hand on the back of your neck. More

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