Sweeter Late Season Summer Fruit
by pass the easy low hanging impatient first fruits of spring instead, discern as an eternal joy quietly ripens in a sweeter higher hidden branch of the Self same tree of life
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Deep, Seize The Dawn
That whirl of hurt was squeezed hard, shed, like paste and pus and skin ex foliate, ex terminated, extra hot fudge love like sauce treacle chocolate molten flows drips into a sweet tasty gorge, mine, my crevasse of heart, mined, My Caterpillar Chrysallis, vacated, My space and grace and fire, hard on, Left fuller, knew space like fire balls As My Mother Fucking Sweet Butter Flies This Life Blown Whole Now, The Dawning Of Deep Seas. By Tony Searl