Sensuality and or
sexuality has always been a bit of an enigma for me. Someone might say what the *bleep you’re a senior citizen how can that be? So, without going in to all the gory
details let’s say that’s a given. I’m
all on or all off, hot or cold, all giving or all with holding, obvious or
incognito . So then how do I reach the
in between what lives there. Then it came to me
the METAPHOR
I’m a seed, full of potential
held tightly
in the skin of being
jam packed with organic memory
vibrating in potentiality.
Getting nicked,
forced to bloom
an unnatural event.
I'm holding out for furtile ground.
