My unconscious is but a union of lovers
For Like an ever approving mother
it still harbours the most of me in itself.
But like a disapproving father
it delivers me to fatalities of the conscious.
It longs for the part of me it gave away,
yet sends me the pangs of agony if I transgress.
It is but a line begotten by the crossing of two unique planes.
A moment of divine matrimony in the infinitude of love.
A seed that can grow back and forth
the nature of my nature,
the destiny of all my destinations,
It is an end to all my begginings,
and therefore a beginning to all my ends.
Poems of love and Love of poems! 