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the lips of love larger version of image |
Here on Lama mountain enshrouded in grey the lips of love caress my body drops from the sky insinuate into each crack and crevice a crevasse of wetness washing me awake and into love. It doesn't take much. My husband used to tease that I'd fall in love with every dog, man, child and tree I met. These days, I'm a bit more discriminating, but not much. |
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Issue #7, February, 1999 :
Santa Fe Poetry Broadside.