Sunday, January 23, 2011


In this vegetative state
you are more masculine territory,
while I am sweet grass,
wide awake, and scintillating
with morning dew.

Your behemoth slumber
is gargantuan peace
while I digress with titilations
and ruminations on the ecstasy of war.

The feminine replenishes,
recycled continuity.
The masculine initiates the fireball
and sustains growth.

Essentials both.


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