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Jan 2017
i am the creator god, who comes apart at the cracks
whose skin splits between his toes;
my pain doubles as rainbows in your sky
i cry out for divine help,
there are no more angels left to ground
they all left your house, ages ago
took off for the warmer temples,
where deities echo among their own shadows.
no one knows the mystery’s clothes or his origins;
demanding the stones, to throw their own and hold their tune,
for monsoons are coming soon and we shall bloom in the ethers.
a flower that calls forth, summons you,
to mask the face that is too radiant to view,
i pursue truth like an addiction;
its suspicious how we are looking, for the beast
to breathe through this dirt,
oh, what delicious derision
what a mission of love and kindness
yet, don't forget blindness; as sadness suspects
that we are searching way too soon
and you are utterly beautiful
all aspects dutiful; you are goodness personified,
what a shame to hide the sun behind your skirt
yet you shake your hips and it hurts, my heart
abundant waters slips from your mouth
and still i shout your name
Ganesha Michael Shapiro
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