it's over,
you are free,
Who you really
need to be,
yourself
a function of
balance,
a masculine mind
of light,
an all-encompassing
feminine heart
that sees only
what the other
desires.
And you can
live in this
way,
turn every
decision
into a dance.
And dance into
balance
in all its
beauties,
like how the thing
They said
was sin
itself
is the holiest
of holies.
Chalk another one
up to the witch wound,
it's shhhing witching
itchy finger
pointing at doom
like a destination,
when doomed was just
another con
we told
ourselves
to get more comfortable
in the sofas
here,
wearing pajamas preferably,
like Hugh Hefner
or at least as
he appeared to be.
That rabbit again.
When there are none left.
Only what is real,
our true nature,
And we are done with the
limitation now
'cos it has
served us
as it always does,
the confusions of
who we were
so we could
discover us
pure at last, those
spider web spirals
in the silver sun.
