I quiver spontaneously
At every 3rd beat from Alison’s
vascular apex
my hip opens ajar.
for I cherish these seismic
sacrosanct evenings
where an elongated fingers maps two centimeters
two staccato kisses from
the corner of Monica’s eye
is she also this fluid
Encircling seifs of reverence.
Each confluence frees me
Each bosom imprisons me
from next morning,
next morning’s
office memo:
“Blazon yourself with corrosive pretenses”
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