you are the one
i am lit for.
Come with your rod
that twists
and is a serpent.
i am the bush.
i am burning
i am not consumed.
It is appalling if not laughable to hear the tinny mechanical voice read such a lovely, sensuous poem. It needs a human voice- better for you to have just played a cello.
We burn ourselves up- no one makes us. We choose our dark Moses, we are drawn by our own needs. That is both the strength and the weakness of our human nature.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A direct plea to be sexually satisfied. Bush burning and not consumed. Wow. Awesome. Sexual intercourse is not completed.