Rasalgethi
         For Gerrit Lansing

In the zenith of breath,
         a mouth
moving like the rain &
         the hum of rain.

Instrument of speech
         engaged otherwise

in soliloquy of engorged
         ecstatic soft

friction talking the ooze
         of living from out

the root of genesis though
         no unison of opposite

parts here, love as if
         food & nothing growing

save the shuddering crux
         of purpose: orgasm

gravity of all matter
         curled into a wordless

flutter, kissing the lips
         of air while lips

kiss the burden of breathing,
         mouths

aglint with the fluid
         of universe, no other

nectar, no other occupation.

 

 

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