Eat the World

Rumi says, We are sent to eat the world

And we find a million struggles the same as one


Foiled at the first attempt

Brought down to our knees


In depression desolate, destroyed

As the nature of woman – broken

Broken apart by shame and abandoned


Beyond the walls of the secret garden, we are

Crowded inside our heads


The statue of woman lonely for recognition

For queen status, for kind hands folded delicately


To be brought back to life with a kiss

For a taste of pie, tart on the lips and hot

For pie a la mode, with the cool sweetness on top


Woman in lust for the rough and rugged cutting

Souls open, legs open, our bodies receiving

The life essence coming


And we moaning sounds like crying

We shake,

Our tongues fat flesh knead like dough


Pulled from the fire ready

Jesus is knocking

Hard on the outside, sounds hollow within