Our Gaea's Wail
"And then..." you asked me, gazing at the dying
fire of the candle resting on the table:
"Like the nature of passion, never tiring of eating,
is another virgin forest going to be cleared?"
Closing our faces to clounds of hanging black
grapes, you and I desired a licentious affair.
Fumbling for each other, we drowned in our passion before
falling away beneath the sky of a brilliant night.
God, who gave people leave to march off to war, also
gave them leave to cut down the firewood of passion;
The mountain surface was cleared, exposing red ...