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A Floral Bisection
June 29, 2013
Ever tracing the eons
Awaiting he of morning glory
Mother has relinquished her youngest son’s aroma
To the earth
Dissolved once more into seed water
Come
dawn he will murmur
Unable to summon the tenderness
Of liberty’s breast
As he sees the pyre ships glow
Through the confetti of a
celibate hand which
Revels in the plum tree's nihil
Woe, for his roots entangle his thinking space
He will become one
A flower in Persephone’s womb
Secure always, beloved early morning
To evoke his mother’s smile
© Rebecca Y., Los Angeles, CA
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Concerning subjection, it invokes the name of abuse in human to human and human to environment interaction.