the love of many

i'd wish for you a second lover's lips

to sing the praise of your passion's passion,

for the largess of your engulfing love,

how it spills from founts to

overtake the seas

love is not a bound volume, to be spent

judiciously or loaned with the frugality of

the moneylenders, but a thing refreshed by

the vitality and desire of the giver, who cannot

stem the tide any more than cease her heart

i'd wish for you a third lover's lips

to suckle at the bosom of your

engorged wants and soothe

the oppression of the constricting

vestments of the prepossessed

drowning those who would march in arms

against the native urges and authentic

conscience transfused to us from the

Original Mother, yet suppressed in the name

of a specious piety

and i will remain your first lover,

your primary, lips uttering a prayer

to the Goddess of the Divine Universe,

asking for Her blessings on us on

the eve of this embarkation

to entreat her with a question: how

does one divorce oneself from the

flock of the sedated, and approach

the true divine, the epic universe whose

manifold nature is the model for love?

for there is no sin in the love of many

so long as the lovers partake in a feast of

harmony with their eyes equal to the

same horizon and the sun, at her zenith,

illuminating all

there is a moral chisel against convention,

a subterranean river that cuts through

the hard rock as veins beneath the

surface of the skin, pulsating with the

genuine power of the soul

the heart has more than one chamber,

after all, and a multitude of ways

in which one approaches her and leaves

her, bringing life to her and carrying life from

her, and her strength is in the love of many

i'd wish for you a life of lovers, on a

migration toward the source of light,

gifting what you have in abundance,

to unlock all the gates so that it will

flow openly as it was meant to be