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May 2014
Lips, soft as petals, rarefied as undiscovered
Wild orchids.

Hair, threads of gold gathered, woven, mined
From secret caves.

Eyes, that fell from violet skies landing on new
Isles of azure.

Skin, so salmon flecked, subtle, delicate, solas,
Destination.

Your body is buried cask and gilded keeper
Of jewels and flame, whispers, searing cold,
Blue fires untamed—

Lush, fertile wanderings, colourful birds, sweeping
Moon, pools of sorrows and light, trees branching,
Pleasures keen, crushing delights without name.
Seán Mac Falls
Written by
Seán Mac Falls  Éire
(Éire)   
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