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la petite mort (Free verse) by poetekzen
hands discovering planes
and valleys
hoping they've never been touched
with such audacity
such intimacy
but is anything a frontier anymore?
maybe where lust and love intersect
maybe at its vertex
where teeth
express hope
on the napes of necks,
nails carve
sonnets along the
lengths
of writhing backs,
hips ascertain exactly
how legs can be
affectionately splayed,
arms perfect the tightest embrace
and hair
cannot help but
be entangled in fingers
signing "I love you"
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