seed – haiku and other animals

a seed forces itself into the archaic organ overnight

 in nothing
 the morning 
 still but
 cries for
 seed or
 sex split
 the dark &
 in pours
 the need
 coffee
 with heavy
 feet & to
 scrape 
 dreams from
 the face
 that needs
 to face
 nothing

for a small something like a seed though let’s stay inside

pieces of the week still in my pocket tiny seeds of mint