Voluptuosity

I pause in my voluptuous-
ness.  If I was a taste, I’d be
sweet, like syrupy
fruit juice, sticky and
just a tiny bit tart,
the colour of rhubarb
with gold like clear apple juice.

this is all your fault.

November ’05

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This blog is the collection of my poetry and prose, in chronological order from most recent to oldest.

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