In the Silence

Powder keg of sensitivities,
I rewrite the Kama Sutra.

So lacking in imagination,
they have forgotten
the 14 positions of the mind,
the triune of emotional insecurities,
the four locks of consequence,
the quadrangle of opulence,
the multi-dimensional equation,
and the host of others
in the mandala
of interdependent nature.

I look beyond
the stream
wet and facing
the annihilation of evaporation
into the clouds
and the long journey
from the mountains
and back to the sea.

I have uttered
the incantations
of the algorithms
of scanty negligées,
and bit the lips
of passersby,
and their precipitations
dropped from the skies
like a vagabond
who lusted like a would be hobo.

To speak a thousand words
and hear nothing,
this is a timelessness
bound in water,
restrained with ribbons,
and tossed into the sea.

But not to touch,
this is a torture
only made worthwhile
if all the treasure
of our work
to be
is laid to rest
on the moaning
of a dream.

runningturtle87