We have infinite opportunity
to connect on the level of my
primordial heart. My
animal body
somewhere else, eyes sting from the
baths of crushed mustard
anise seed, He
cries out
for this rock rose, will open as
my legs my throat
our connection expands, I am all
colours. All dust. Like you
have your hands
rest lightly on the valley that is
the small of my back
my luscious back, rolling
like hill crests
of a coniferous forest, pine cones
all littered about.
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