The Circus

Larry D. Thomas

Hermaphrodite

He feels the world with her
skin and nerves; love, the allure
of an insoluble puzzle.
It must suffice, the it of a thing
inanimate, finding,
because it must, beauty
in the curse and the monster;
feeling the rush of the same blood
to the genitals of a budding man
and woman, fashioned of the same
ounces of warm flesh pulsing
in the loins of a freshly
pubescent child, wild with wonder.

 

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