He lost his head,

And in a twisted way he went about

With his shirt half inside-out

And also halfway-in.

But, in seeing that his mind was with the gods,

I took a closer look at him,

And saw the unfolding nature

Of the non-duality.

I smiled and offered him a cup of tea,

And he smiled back,

For he said he saw in me

A blithering sweetheart,

A tart pulled from the loaf and pressed,

Dressed with sugar and jam,

Then cooked to flaky humble pie perfection,

And he didn’t give a damn.

He said I could be his horse

If I never won a race.

And in his eyes I see a face

That only only a mother could love.

They say the mother principal lasts a long time,

And lucky for me, that face I see is mine,

With eyes that shine and lips that pout,

Wearing my skin, half inside-out,

Half inside-in.

-jenn