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.