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Erotification
Not rough like a train wreck or a car wreck
or loud like a cat fight or two neighbors
shouting angrily across an alley by night
about nothing much at all; but quietly, more
like rain perturbs the leaves, or falling snow,
or calcium hardening a bone
changing, re-arranging, like a diamond pressed from a coal
over eons, invisibly, underground,
do you proceed, gentle Erotification,
subtly filling the vacuoles of the father, the mother-love-
that Elder deemed by the shrewd child
a better bet for trust and apprehension
as hormones quicken (for wouldn't a foal rather run
proudly under the flick of a whip
then idle all the dull day in the barn
tied, unbroken, by it's parent's side?) ,
until the sea is fully changed, until
the chord, newly augmented, rings brightly out,
until the tree, dusted with dazzling snow, becomes
overnight the tenant of a hitherto secret season
which will endure a while
giving (or not) it's denizon the hope and skill
to be, in turn, a candidate for wise children to
worship and eroticize.
poem
by
Morgan Michaels
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