permutation read as cream

Here there is
an electrician
a snow storm
the sun-
in the stone of a peach, the
eye
envies the pear
its complete
edibility-
complicit soft lips
and the mind
lingers over her, the subtle
spring of
life
its self
but my hand stops
at the
end of my skin, and
my heart
the bar car drunk
full
of love and travel, can go
no further,
and the looseness of
the world
unshackles completely, and tragically
fear grips me first- instead of
the intense
liberation of falling.