Bounding, as in thy budding o’er (Stein-Shakespeare 2)
O seen made of love, to swear completely!
Think, whether they were not the bounding ocean.
And because they will never be outstripp’d.
Such a continuous often is not less.
This makes an all-eating different thing.
This be goats and ransoms in pennies o’er-green.
A heap cold valley-fountain of cuddles.
As thou shalt of your being all these things.
I cup and you think it is so. O brute!
Be feeling, not wondering at that sensitiveness!
How much more sensitive. My tongue, thy budding.
Loving breasts doth like. Sweet sweet. Such comely.
If they generalised rain still find.
O they swim in their living lips and mine.
Composed with jGnoetry and the following source texts:
William Shakespeare, The Sonnets
Gertrude Stein, GERTBOT selections