The tail end of death
shall soon be upon us
as too
the heady scent of birth
Both majestic
and extraordinary
for they are
destroyer and creator
There is no definitive line
no singular moment
as veins of love
take hold over the other
Rushing to the light
breaking through cracks
these rampant orgasms
bleed Persephone passions
Winter
fades into hades
as spring
grows into a rose
A Gap In The Clouds 