Venus drifts
into her own backyard,
in Libra, and says, I'm still
an Eco-sexual.  She writes
a poem, about Lilitu...

Lilitu walks barefoot,
through a dense forest
of suede leaves
on either side
of a slate path.

She loosely cups them
as they pass, and tastes
the bitter
-sweet pleasure of the
feel of this invasive

species.  She knows it
only by shape, 
not by name.
It's seedlings grow
tall, and strong

everywhere.  We call it
a weed.  I wonder
sometimes, if it matters
what's growing anymore.
It still gives the gift,

of oxygen to breathe.  
Can we release,
into what has
always rested beneath
our feet, and the energy,

ceaselessly supporting all 
Life?