Sunday, December 9, 2007

"In the last desert between the last blue rocks
The desert in the garden and the garden in the desert
Of drouth, spitting from the mouth the withered apple-seed.

O my people."

My sin, yourself, a passion fruit seed in my mouth,
Spit out, like that with which you unsealed sight
Until the trees turned into breathing man.
The tree of life's sap opened up his eyes
(For once, the trees unite and knowledge ties to life).
The tree's fruit, crushed we (he) drink;
The fruit's flesh, moist and tender, full of seeds,
We eat, until we turn into a tree.

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