Tiger, Tiger burning bright.
How far we will fall
in the heat of the night.
A shiny apple hanging low
to have and to hold
and to the depths we'll go
to taste
to tempt
to tease release
to tarry
in stasis
to cease
to cease
to savor
the succulence
of ripest fruit
to feel
to fathom
the deepest roots
in rhizomia
the utopia
of flesh
and favor
and flowing
frenzied
fissures.
Tiger, Tiger burning bright!
A shooting star
that dims tonight.
A supernova, outshine the light
a sublime explosion
our rare midnight.
Thursday, December 03, 2009
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1 comment:
Ah, but only human, after all.
Clever poem.
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