My poppy wildflowers recklessly bloom An enthralling spread rushes past the ego and quickly covers all patches of hate and sin is a needless worry of the past.
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Myself
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Rollicking lilting: an unseen young woman’s chortle haunts my ears. Angelic chuckling softens my heart. Occasionally, in a swooning despair, I lean out the window to blindly seek her face, the fount, only to be splashed with a fresh outpouring of cherubic mirth. Assured, languid, bright, content — all I’ve wanted to experience in a woman. Intermittent eternal trumpet of joy — tittering with gusto — driving me up to heaven.
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Unenlightened, I am still washing dishes and harvesting bamboo and I still carry the woman I helped across the river in my heart.
Sage Advice
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Taut vines now sway lolling in the breeze weeping with joy
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Bless this beautiful mess
Self Love
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had I only known, I would have yielded my beauty
innocent regret
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Others put on dressy lies. Your style is ready-to-wear for a palace.
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The swordsman beheld the sword. His blood called to it. It sliced him, singing.
Gaze
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Men make things. Women make things worthwhile.
Stereotypical
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As God, I completely and utterly heal myself and The World and enlist my angels to do my biding and I entrain my lovers to prepare their bodies and their souls for my dallying and ravishing and delight
Amen
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