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Incestuous Youth
Late afternoon surfers
clasp the wind-swollen waves
to chests rounded and tanned,
jut-nippled and muscular --
the scent of their youth
fresh as the salt air.
They ride the belly-quivers
of the fecund green sea,
endless, undulating, incestuous --
the common watery womb
which bore us all.
Copyright ©
Leo Larry Amadore
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