NowTue, March 25, 2008 - 12:26 AM
Didn't we speak of this?
Oh. I was mute, and you were deaf.
But we still sat underneath the canopy
our instruments like rifles with bayonets
"They'll come", I said. "I promise".
And we came to each other
There is so much beauty in this present sensation
I grew bored with running circles of dissatisfactions
Like a dog that chased it's tale because it was
excited, bored, and now frustrated.
I feel like I can overflow now
nourished by her spring
With pleasure I give, with pleasure I take
These breasts have made milk
This womb recreated creation
I add pink to the lips of innocents,
fragrance to the heavy ripened ones
Do I owe this to you?
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