From my mother's womb
A ship's tide exploded
Into a kaleidoscope of tinted lights;
Little me sailing into space
Between clitoris and Mons veneris;
I shudder, I stop.
From within the darkness
Of the stretch mark patterned thighs
Of those forgotten memories,
Comes this urn of ashes,
Of aliens on a spree to take us all home.
No it is the loom of fate
That weaves about a shuttle;
That shuttles us to and fro
Like fireflies sitting on the wings
Of tender winds, like the sun
Peeling it's skin and birthing a rainbow
That has forgotten how to shine.
I am fracturing between your thighs,
Most holy one, goddess
Of lost space and alien races.
I am satiated with the nectar
Of your pelvic girdle
And seek but to gird you
Like the river bank of the Ethiope,
For you are a restless divinity.
I end.
RE: Fractal Writing Contest #9, and winners of the previous one.