to rest my eyes
i go to the garden and
gaze upon those
leaves
the leaves become
caressing hands
stroking the
soft eyelashes
and rubbing my forehead
with the coolness of
its epidermal
gifts
it is dusk and
light slowly ascends
from the thighs
of the lady mountain
i am lustful at dawn
at noon
they say i am
poetic
i want action tonight
not just words
i call her by the phone
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