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Mysterious, I have to taste that simple fruit bellow the waste simple? Yes complexity to odds at end an irony ”sweet as wine” is said too much I’d rather say the perfect lunch the salt the sweet a recipe for where they meet, the end of me Mysterious, I rest my face between two pillars lightly grace the inner crevice valley hills I quench my thirst, but hunger still from where we came, each man no doubt the going in the coming out for eyes to peer from legs embrace across the hips breast and face Mysterious, it is indeed when fingers plot, trace with greed the soft the fine the peek the line two arms that reach, two breast they find. I plot a course and learn the way from bowing back and peaceful stay with inner thigh breath in cry her hand, my hair we keep in time Mysterious, I’ll look again and never hope to find the end

Copyright © | Year Posted 2005

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