Tags
Creation, Creativity, katana, poem, poetry, sexual symbolism, the Sun, wordplay
ASLEEP
folded and
folded
again
and again
legendary, the way
you tempered my metal
until finally I was
pure shape of sword
razor-
sharp katana
and whilst you
slept, worm out by
this endeavor
I popped out
into the garden to
observe the sunrise
which
rose
on cue
its rule
still assured
as
bold in demeanor
as if just
painted by Picasso, the
canvas
not yet dry
at least two
furnaces
engaged and active
in the Universe
at this moment
though the one more
fiery and ferocious
in her
bedroom
asleep