by Kevin Teuscher
The orange brilliance
Of a sunset dhalia
Is made a memory by this morning mist
Weathering drop by drop
The stone Buddha's face
And other travels
Have sometimes brought you closer
Or sent you back from love and meditation
Stone faced as any statue.
But then those moments of returning
With fresh scrubbed spirit
Open arms, open kisses in sunset's brilliance
And O, that soft welcome between your legs!
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