poetry

venus

today venus sat on my bookshelf licked its vagina with her tongue once done she simply stared up at me with yellow poker eyes as if she had forgotten the problem

i know i hadn’t because almost immediately i turned the page of the book i was reading and continued from where i had left and venus simply lay there if it wasn’t for the fur youd see that she was naked right from her breasts to her inquisitive toes that peaked under the duvet when I wasnt watching

her and the games she

taught to herself while frolicking in the garden this morning she caught a bird and two bees and once id finished scolding her about environmental destruction and nature conservation she taught me to forgive and learn by holding a flower with your fingers and listening to its echo that comes out of the buds when only your heart is listening

because thats what the garden was all about i came to learn through an eventual stumble of ideas and soiled trousers swearing at the other clothes that were too clean and full of water

this is another thing i remember about her and the way she seemed to walk through the slush and muddled flowers waiting for my greasy hands and a chance to prance around when the spade wasnt

around

you see thats what I learnt watching her and the way she laughed

the way that her hair stuck to parts of the song she sung

life is a creative experience and you should treat it the same way like the time when she was drunk and dived into the compost heap full of dying shit and creamy humus she didnt care or apologize for the mess or the way she looked with bramble branches tattooed on to her instead with a giddy shake of her head she giggled and said

ill clean it up tomorrow

almost always she had a hangover and forgot about the garden spills and mess since all she ate were panadopills and the rest of the pizza from the night before she climbed into the void of a lunatic that had enough passion to change the day and order in which the garden lay before she sprung on me

armed with vodka and mud and creating enough nonsense to calm a flood that occasionally rises from the inside when i forget to check my stageface in the mirror beforeandaftermeals and let the audience know that when you sit in the mud and nature comes and climbs into you with matted paws eyes stuck in sleep and a wideyawnjaw and tells of a anchored consciousness inside those bones

it calls you

in a whisper and tells

you youre home

ย 

ย 

PhilosopherPoet

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