woman on top

in dawnÂ’s garden she paused

to consider the snake

in its ancient whisperings

like electric sacrament

on the tongues

of the desperate

in a future age

it was a crash course in

cosmic consciousness

but for this

adam branded

her a witch

as he set to sinning

with an offering burned into

the mind of a sick god

it is time for the resurrection

a female phoenix to fly from

the ashes of his poisonous altar—

there is yet time

for the blooming—

may she now birth

the best of children

pieces of the sun

so radiant washed and

dripping with the rainbow

a splashing of colors

on the kitchen table

while we dance

and laugh

and sing

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