October 9, 2008

originally written in February 2005

Your taster, it’s how you smell
it can be gentle as a dog’s
coarse as a cat’s
It can offend, defend, explore,
cut, rip, scare, tear a man in two.
It is the rail to which your words adhere
their Guide
It can be scorched or cut
yet it roasts itself;
Imprisoned behind a yellow palisade
white and crooked walls.
It can lift spirits, wake the dead,
carry someone higher than the stars.
You can speak in it, a consuming flame.
Be wary, for within that pink flesh
is great and glorious power.


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