Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Recycling Delusion

at times,
an orgiastic butterfly’s gnaw,
turns buds into rocks,
on top of bountiful hills.
with the lightning touch,
the crevices befall full-blown;
a zephyr, kissing
calm into a storm.
and for a song,
rambling cries swap
timeless waste.
vapor gilding down
the waist,
probing the trails of
parched ferns
thirsting for dewdrops.
the frissons, welled up,
beautifully weave
blushes on
maniacal visages
meddling
the origins of the whole,
in the navel.
lazing around,
in wrapped up truth,
gaze seemingly begging ,
for wicked mercy;
enacting surrender,
swelling the bliss;
in the snake’s stranglehold,
the breath gets sucked away,
by hot spewing grins.
the restrained wail
of a mute tree,
in the wilds, yielding
to a python’s
winding squeeze
echoes
in to the spinal caves.
the seeds of the fruit,
awaiting, once again
to be recycled
in to the gutter of release,
or salvation?
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