03-07-2011, 12:02 PM
What name does one give the sacred moment
when lovers explode inside one another,
and all the inanimate brown earth sings,
the windowpanes crack with the transparent force
conceived in the grunts two beings exchange,
and the movements relate what a sonnet never could,
the terrible crippling vulnerability. Love in all its ugliness.
when lovers explode inside one another,
and all the inanimate brown earth sings,
the windowpanes crack with the transparent force
conceived in the grunts two beings exchange,
and the movements relate what a sonnet never could,
the terrible crippling vulnerability. Love in all its ugliness.
"We believe that we invent symbols. The truth is that they invent us; we are their creatures, shaped by their hard, defining edges." - Gene Wolfe