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Janet Grillo 
Last night the room was filled with you. The taut ivory arc as you leaned the length of it. The salty oil of your black curls scenting the space in a wave. Your heat like the ocean sun running my body, covered and uncovered. No other man can have a cock but you. The miracle of its moody transformations sitting like a perfect mushroom on a tuffet waiting to be discovered Then a loud alert--Become the arrow searing towards the life we cannot plan. I do not dream now when I sleep but wake to live in you Within this room of transformation where we rise and fall like a tide that wants to blanket all the sand and almost can.
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