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I should touch him, even tenderly I would be suspected, not a ghost of a sound But an articulate word, a lilac With a hint of flesh, a slick garden Between the boxed wood, and rosebush Gathering...
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We where water Along a gravel’d path Desire had gathered us With a hint of flesh Elsewhere I hoped I had been awake So my shadow would flicker Throbbing audibly, yes audibly Imagine it if once,...
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The elements have reconciled They have lit the lights Over us like green And phosphorescent moist That illuminates But does not wet us An insinuation Of what we’ve become Tagged: desire, journal,...
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