For A Cutter, Who Stood Bare Armed Before Me, And Demanded I Be Inspired By Her Scars, Right Now

Searching in that same old human condition,
driven as by sex, a lot like sex,
the slow agony and not for this
were apples taken from snake to lips.

What, after all, is one more–
whole cultures chart
their pubescent wars and great,
gory defeats–

what’s the difference
if like honeyed teat this life flows so–
evidence of what would stay hidden,
below,
not for this lifetime to know.

But what is shown cannot be unknown,
and climbing ringing ladders
presupposes an end
when there is no.

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