I take refuge in an old mans chastened
****, withered at the root, fallen like a dead tree; I take refuge in an old
women’s flaccid****, collapsed, impenetrable, and sponge like: I take refuge in
the virile young tigers Thunderbolt, rising proudly, indifferent to death; I
take refuge in the maidens Lotus, filling her with rolling bliss waves,
releasing her form shame and inhibition.
The branches of the Great eastern Tree grow
and grow, but the foliage’s spread depends on the tree roots extent.
A fortnightly series from a book by Russ and Blythe Carpenter.
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