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she tangled me in her private hairs,

as i kissed darkness sweet good night.

her fish porridge boiled

burning my tongue.

her searing heat

came in staccato

puffs smothering

the bushel’s

candlelight of

jesus’ simple love

embraces.

who seeks

ivory, bone arms,

when he can

lounge and suffocate

between

her

brown, thick

heaving heaven?