PORTAL by Eric Rosenbloom copyright 2002 A milk white cloud of æther drawn From mother’s breast imbues With fire and water lymph and blood — Created life ensues. The dung that issues forth from mine Is of her body — true — Where in the stench is sweet soft cream — A gift I’d give to you? The chemist’s salt and patient work Transforms the smelly mess — It shines a light and airy gold To throb inside by breast. The earth is in our bones — and air Inflates our lungs — the fire Of passion beats the surging waves — And pure is heart’s desire. Between two circles — in a kiss — Two bodies warm embrace — And taste the salts and now create A love they dare to face. |