Tag: feelhouse

  • Beckon • from 54 poems at 27

    Beckon • from 54 poems at 27

    When you walk between both soundhouses You will see that the lighthouse ain’t the only keep emitting sense for the feelhouses – those phalluses – reach, tingle make the hairs… how they stand on end, shivering. And the scenthouses billow upwards, smoke signals of the fragrances, fair and foul, to come: ethereal masts. When you…