Saturday, October 3, 2009

There is a wall. Thin perhaps, clear even

Between any one person and another.

Sometimes it is very sexy.

You go through that wall

It dissolves around you and you are inside

Then there is the other person

Surprised like you are

And everything is funny, tastes funny smells funny

But it is so sexy

And you are surprised to be so turned on,

Your tastes, or perhaps your immediate attentions

As always are too easily believed -

And the dark, sharp, flinty form

At the far end of the car

Is exuberantly separated

The humid wood broached

The roots wetted

And the union!

Powerful because it is

A lust beyond an I. No self of ours

Can absorb all that bliss.

It is Making that rings in you

It is time demanding to be played out

Through you and anything that comes out of you.

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