A G Spot Awakening

 

 

 

Someone walked the line of graves, last night,

A shadowy figure, stooped to look at headstones,

Like searching a lost relative among the ruins,

Had the scent of Myrnah on its bland clothes,

In gait, it had the swank of mighty Bigfoot,

Yawned, producing a sound like an animal in pain,

Spoke, but like boredom rampant, unconvincingly,

' Is that you Semele? ' it asks, its voice halting,

' Its Juno, come to look for his son, Hercules',

For the world awaits, searching for a savior,

Itself, like a decrepit, despairing child, moaning,

' I can't, I can't,' it repeats of itself, like a wheel,

' Help me father, the flood waters are rising.'

It hurts to look, at truths, when bare and simple,

' Cover me again with leaves that are knowledge',

'For the mummy lies in swathes of storyful nothingness.'

The book of Bible shivers, saying, ' here comes Babel.'

Is it possible? That she at last found the silence she lost?

Reviews

[Marie]

Great imagery--shadow figure looking through graves. But I can't quite grasp the meaning.

[Shep]

This seems like a good beginning of a story that I would love to read. Question answered. I am a man traped behind the looking glass. Stare long enough and. You might see me staring back. Becareful you too might become traped.