breasts to suckle
hands to hold
arms to contain
this is the dream
the inner words
here life is a tree
harbouring its own life
uncouth and derelict
the sentence of a seed
like Poseidon longing for sea
it stands erect and arrogant
as the arid earth its father
arms bequeath its fruit
descend, ascend
a Jacobs ladder
it bends in pain
fraught with denial
manifold and barren
like an empty seed
instead being beckons
and fragile old man hands
hold the young bosoms
beings opens, closes
and thighs are lost
within the circles
the fleshly gestalt
until death and life
alone in words-ship
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