(Sometimes, I write poetry. Here’s some.)


I want to loop
worlds with you, mine and yours,
the tulips and the thorns.

With you, I rise,
dough on your hands,
smiling at me, flour-lipped.

You lick me un-edged.

I want to play until this
life closes, walk out with you at dusk,
swings slowing “good-bye,”

dusty, satisfied.

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