Monday, January 05, 2015

DNA~ january 5, 2014

Her DNA thrums 
like water under ground,
going places.

waiting for her to listen, 
to see, 
to be able 
to claim her place; 
make a left turn, resolve
to become the navigator of her own chemistry:

a treasure hunter – 
pirate of her own ocean -
drifting on the periphery of her 
softly folded in 

for what of this plunder? pillage? loot?
What lust 
is thus 
for it is not the treasure 
that seduces us
like sirens,
surges in us 
like sudden, 
unfathomable desire.  

It is not the plunder, 
but the hunt. 
Always the hunt

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