Free yourself From the moment, Then digest it. Do not chew it, But let it disintegrate At its own pace And nourish you And cause you to tingle With feral nymphs Each beckoning you to Scream While the pangs Of your ecstasy Or fury Or desire Find their voice.
Another moment will come, But do not eat it. Let it linger at the Fringes of your lips Until it implodes Through too many pointed Frissons of JOY Each pushing against the skin In search of words to steal And a song or two To keep them aloft.
Art: “The Pine Grove -Twilight” Charles Warren Eaton