the faults of flesh
are its pleasures, come to an end.
when weaned, be it gradual or sudden,
what feeds us then?
the wise ones live their dying daily,
practicing death to this world
while their hearts still beat against the cage of their ribs with love-
practicing opening to the milk that feeds the soul
until
flesh fails
& falls back to renew the elements of earth
& spirit flies to a new feast.
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