Mother

What does it mean to be human? To feel, taste, smell, hear, and see? The sweetest of sweets, bitterness of lies left on the tongue after a night of hot meaningless conversation. Thought I would say hot meaningless sex, which I would have but now is not the time for that. Now is the time for life, sex is merely a few moments of strict body movements that only turn to one of two things, regret or longing. Should I focus only on this one subject while the trees die and the children weep? Should I focus on the screams of Mother Earth as her flesh is torn and stretched and scathed? The many things one could think about and focus on, yet we use our mind to covet the neighbor’s wife. The plunge of her neckline, and the silhouette of her hips that could move the very mountains, should we do nothing at all or everything at once? While children play and children weep our minds are focused on one thing, sex. The needless ecstasy of two bodies becoming one, though we must have one night of sex in order to make a child, but tell me this, should I continue to think of this one dastardly thing instead of asking the children why they weep, or soothing the torture brought upon by men of centuries to the one and only thing that will forever be home? 

Author's Note

I plan on cleaning it up a bit but for now I will post it here.