Creation

a poem for sexy makings

Sex u al it y

climbs
up
the spine
of mine
emerging from
the whole
womb
or
            seed,
                             whichever.

It's not just
for fucking.
No, too
simplicity.

Creation
not solely
of the
child.

Rather,
chills up
the spine,
again.

It's for
c r e a t i n g
the and
our

experience
of god and
all there is
                    and isn't.

Got it?
                   make it. 

This poem is from the book, Die with Me: Surrendering to Suffering.

Photo by Roberto Sorin on Unsplash