The Single Law

In intimate recurrent epochs
of bloom and decay,
you ride your body’s pyrotechnics,
blood-warm pump and sway:

you rot a bit – resuscitate –
and lumber on, bemused –
you sweat and eat and defecate:
no instinct is refused.

Coin your maxims as you can –
philosophies all fool.
The single law of woman, man:
biology will rule.

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