All that lust of flesh,
and those moments
of grunting and sighing
and babbling in heat
which they beget,
end up in ash, dust
and stained earth
to mark the passing
of us and our offspring,
and the passions
which we called life.
That is the essence
of that feeling
which we call love -
mere oil to keep turning
the genetic engines
from mating to mating,
from spawning to spawning,
with empty shells
left decaying
in the bosom
of the earth.
18.04.-13.05.2021
#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse
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