a poem for today, 5 May 2012
[a letter sorted sonnet of nine sentences and its image]
Everybody masturbates.
We circle terminally through language believing in the commonality of feeling words, as we touch.
I'll hurt you if you stay.
Love is the answer, but while you are waiting for the answer, sex raises some pretty good questions.
Learn to think with pain.
Eventually the body intrusively tires from fatigue and drags down the thinker's suspended flesh.
They kiss passionately.
They've left behind their trivial, selfish lives, and they've been reborn with a greater purpose.
Is this your compromise.
No comments:
Post a Comment