August 11, 2009
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All the contours
Of your body
Are like rolling hills
And jagged cliffs
Like flowering forests
And raging seas
And the depth of something unforeseen
I’ll make up words to jump your cliffs
I’ll write a symphony just to see
The smooth horizon where it is stood
To skim the flesh of thirsting quench
To jump across the open hood
To drown in the ferocious trench
A view, the sun, and what is good

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