Epochs of Self

There are seasons behind the breasts
wherein play and love
discuss the essence of things.
The conversations are long and intense
exchanges, too long and intense for the
tired monkey mind in the head.
This is why the monkey mind snoozes
while the exchanges rage on in the
fractal-whorls, in the nexus-heart.
They, love and play, can't stop
fraternizing. Conversely, the monkey mind
can't stop snoring.
So, where do you go?
To bed?
No.
You go into the hearty pulp
of the conversation.
Join the loquacious flow.