Always, at the threshold
Woman, earth, and tree
Always the constellation,
with the gleaming
always fruit a moon
dripping overhead
Always her arms,
her fingers curled in tight buds
Always the blossoming of her belly
a room expanding to hold
like the earth always beneath
calling to your feet
Always the question:
Will you rest in her arms?
Will you take the fruit?
Waiting to be given
Waiting to be taken
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