"fleshiness" poems
Sing to me a happy lullaby
if you should find me dying-
Dying to cast off the womb
of skin and bone inherited
This spirit was made for dancing
strike up a tune of betrothal-
For its a wedding feast I am invited
and this fleshiness is going nowhere.
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 1:24 PM UTC