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Jun 2019
On the menu,
open eyes , a smile,
the morning rod has risen,
the sun it rises too.

Sweat filled sheets,
the prior evenings music,
the scent of which I crave,
created by our body heat.

Dinner was gourmet as breakfast now awaits,
dessert had a sweetness never tasted,
my breakfast palette lies yearning,
it yearns my bodies fate.
Written by
The Concrete Poet  M
(M)   
64
   Fawn, Miss and ---
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