It is the bug

[osho]

It is in fact an undiscovered truth
By construct the trio were originally one
And why this variance?
This is a bug that feeds on you
And the bug taking hold on either of us
Can be a fine stand-in
The bug devours your tissue
Rendering me aliened
I go in apathy
For my pool of romance has dried up

The bug dies
You still stink of it
The spring returns
You need me all the greater
I am ready to assimilate you and the bug in you
For my world is built in that way
Where the trio can space in concert

I smell of your bug
And it is an irritant
But without your bug
I could not think so much of you
Since my struggles have priced you much higher

Let us digest that creepy crawly vermin

We can emerge and go prowling
For sucking is what we call********
Or else face the kismet

My presence is a flash,
A brief episode
A small imperceptible ripple
The power of feeling and belonging becomes intense
I write poetry out of this sudden quiver

Something is combined, submerges inside me
A flash spark
Something inside me needs you devouringly
And I heave a lusty scream
It is in fact not me

But the bug in full in its un-manifestation

[Buh4Bee]

Nasty topic for a somewhat erotic poem. Sad that religion is such a downer.