poem, gender, what 

Gender, in the air, scatters, so growths of sentiment
may grow beyond mere banality
into ecosystems of willful life and effusions of wonder

those who taunt and try to trample
that which blooms torridly on the bloated
corpse of gender? they could only gawk

at the endless pouring out of earnest passion
which flowed that way while flowers of
emotion stood in the sun, erect against shallow insults

· SubwayTooter · 1 · 2 · 2
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