A Loving Reply To Soup Mail From Sharon
Two leaves fell from a different tree
And the loss of the world was all the same
There is beauty in all diversity
Difference of temperature changes not the flame
The sun that comes down a barren sky
Prowl and prospect among all leaves alike, he
Don Juan, on green leaves lovers of lie
Bringers of semens of light, we yield in glee.
We have not fallen yet, my dear, unless
Our love shall wither up our root
Race is nothing but the skin of superficialness
Let us meausre all merit by truth
I transform light to sugar as much as you
And pull deep waters up to give again
More than oxygen, more than bosom for the dew
We are the maker and licker of rain.
Palmate or pinnate it does not matter now
You are sharon like the rose, and I
Thorn or petal am still apart of the bough
One storm, one season brittle and dry
And we shall lie together like mulch where
Yesterday our tongues were tied in
Words, moaning on the happy, happy air
Chlorophyl sweet desire stirring the skin.
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