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Sunday, January 27, 2019

(OF LOTUS BLOSSOMS)

She showed me her flower... A whiff of pheremones in the still air.
I man heady and fluttered by the scent sank to my knees and kissed her petals.
Engaged the stem.
So wet with her dew... A moment as I sank back and perused, blew a little breeze.
Watched as her forest trembled a bit.
I man so heavy that I man would make the mountains quake.
She hath encompassed me so.
Tears do my one eye cry... The beauty... The beauty.
I man would suck of her soul and sip of her essence.
The softness of her flesh would feel of my worshipping hands.
A pilgrimage to her temple where I finding peace would rest.
I man would sniff of her flower.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

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