Poetry

In between the scars 
where was the frame? 
With artichoke, you were 
dismentaling the ethos. 
 
Giving a suspended 
death sentence to cadence 
of love. You know what 
you did not know, about life. 
 
Hauntingly ethical? You 
do not want to become a sensual 
father, releasing sperms in 
petri dishes. The eggs will find 
 
their mates. It was a dark 
conspiracy to overthrow the 
hierarchy of calculus. Do 
not remove the asterisks.