me, and all, covering up
the true essences
the real me, the real you,
the night's passionate
echoes the smell of Wisteria
left on sheets, there in the
soil, dark life giving moistness,
the furrows plowed,
the rows and rows tilled,
belongs me, belongs you,
emerging, sprouting,
beginning to love, and justness,
just as our roots push down, emerges,
from the loam, a new
song a, new me,
a new you.