Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Ripen

Sister seed, born with me,
Ripen, hope upon the vine.
Set sail for all or nothing
With my prayers urging, “all.”
Potent, round, feminine,
Mystery condensed,
Genealogy encrypted,
Life incarnate:
Accept one
Perfect
Pale
Stranger
Into your permanent
And faithful
Embrace.
Barely-there metaphor
For chaste monogamy,
Wisp, uncertainty,
Twinkle of an eye.
Tiny fruit, which has it all backwards,
Ripen and fall from the tree
And then burrow deep,
Sprout, and grow.
If you perish,
I will bleed.

1 comment:

Heather said...

Lovely.