Wednesday, November 5, 2014

Peaches and Lemons

These others have razed the soil
There is nothing here but meditative nutrients
Awaiting an ovule to seed like a miraculous swarm of bees

Full of honey and stingers
Biding out the pesticides for an aperture
In this land to part the fissuring stones

To place a yellow and black pair of wings to flutter through
Like a margin for error that all this contemplation was purposeful
Peaches and lemons existing like a break in the clouds

To zest pulp for the tongue and scintillation for the mind
The daring of hope that the grand numb is not so impossible
To be seen as one is and be not despised but encouraged


To the path one desires 

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