
It is not the lines you know
Or even I
It is that deliciously dipping and skipping line
Unable to meet at either end, or in the middle
What I want now is that time to appreciate the flow
Where my heart leaps from a bosom
Where my lips take in the sensuous and the animal
Both raw in their own divine place
I will yearn for you both
Tete a tete a tete
Cyclical visions that sparkle
In my cerebral cloud
These lines feel so
Right
Even in their delicious curves and dimples
Their long hair and their truth
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