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Re: 'poetics' and celebrating emotion
Posted By: Sam, on host 206.152.189.219
Date: Tuesday, January 30, 2001, at 07:08:19
In Reply To: Re: 'poetics' and celebrating emotion posted by Wolfspirit on Monday, January 29, 2001, at 22:51:50:

> > Kiss me again!
> > In the moment I broke from you,
> > I knew nothing
> > But the suddenness of parting,
> > The brief, giddy tumbling of the mayfly,
> > The unraveling of the world
> > As its keystone falls away.
> > Kiss me!
> > The thirst of Tantalus is on me.
> > Let me drink and drink
> > And know nothing but the drinking
> > Nothing but the press of your lips
> > And the tightening knot
> > In the middle of me.
> > Kiss me forever!
> > Let us cling to each other,
> > Waist-deep in the midst of the Lethe,
> > Past and future swept away
> > In the current flowing around and through us.
> > Oh, kiss me again!
>
>
> Touch me again!
> In the moment you broke from me,
> I knew nothing
> But the emptiness of longing,
> My ears filled with far-off thunder
> And my vision with the vast tracts
> Of a distant wasteland
> When its spring rainfall burns away.
> Yes, hold me!
> The hunger of Oureboros consumes me.
> Under your caress alone
> The tremulous fires burn sweetly,
> Satin'd honey and cornsilk locks
> Glowing from warmth to warmth,
> Slowly loosening my Gordian knot.
> Come, embrace me eternal!
> Let the very flows of the Lethe
> Be parched dry in prodigious recall,
> Drawing the nectar of Mnemosyne to memory.
> May this moment stretch forever --
> Oh, hold me and kiss me again!

Oh, taste me again!
Consume me in your Cerberusian jaws,
Caress me and crunch me like the Cyclops,
And, with your sweet swallow,
Plunge me into the Charybdian tumult of your stomach!
Oh bathe me in the tender Styx of your small intestine,
Imparting to my soul your protection of love.
Yes, eat me!
Secure in the Pandora's Box of your torso cavity,
Where no raven will eat up my hiding place,
Block my ears from the call of the Siren,
And may your digestive system's efforts to expel me
Be as futile as the weary labor
Of that one that guy was supposed to push a rock up a hill
Which kept rolling back down just as he made it to the top.
Oh, taste me again!

S "profuse apologies to Issachar and Wolfspirit" am

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