you taste like salad
in the blue form platter
of the bed     warm vegetables
i stew inside of you
how like a woman to be warm
there are the arrangement
of our bodies in a fruit bowl
love is a fruit bowl then
banana and pear     orange and apples
the kama sutra was written
from a fruit bowl
i am presumptuous to presume
i am in love
are you too in love
and after this
i am breathless next to you
lying on a beach
with the waves rolling
and the soft wind
about our ears
and the stars are out
and the sky is blue
and all is one
like panflute without words


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