Friday, November 3, 2017

reflections of a non-immaculate conception on 09/25/95


the stars are far from all the scars

you soothe with silken touch

my fingers fondle flaxen hair

to cleanse your eyes of such

i drown in seas of apple green

once i can see your eyes

immerse in skin of ivory hue

so i can be baptized

emerge a saint without restraint

and set upon a quest

of heaven bound which will be found

with your angelic breasts

 

the color of my lips become

the color of your own

each kiss a harvest i will reap

from words which i have sown

within a field i hope will yield

the fragrance of your flesh

a harvest tithe of ten percent

is offered with my breath

that you accept in sacrifice

but then give back to me

transcending letters of the law

till we are spirits three

 

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