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Blending Malts of Single

Last night..

it was a simple one,
two colours
gold and long flat red

your turn…
graped pink in elegance
stranded,
obscured,
frozen in duvets,
wintry
mist of mantle
silver breath,
rising.

Each…
upside down bottle
drops of
evanescence,
pixalation
to splice of life
crawling…
(to sleep over
concealed
spaces waiting under…)

She says…
only now
she’s happy
with
thighs, strides
as her mind wanders,
seeks
its peace
within
the empty vault.

Touch me…
kinesthetic,
visual,
tug my auditory
for I learn best this way
you choose all,
petals for you,
dew
to commence morning’s
birdsong
in the still of our souls.

Nailed into each floorboard
coldness
warmed
to tether footsteps
Synchronous walking
in symmetry
and the raunchy touch
of innominate bones,
waking
efficacy
into cognizant eyes.

Soldered …
two turns
until home,
it was,
a simple one last night

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