The fingertips at the nose temple junction
in a dubious meet over Sun cups
discussing her silk, unlocked
and opting to scatter…

though in initial spirals it’s still unsure
of its soft pillow
The need to fall on his face bed
is a connect of placenta.

She knows —
She wants more.

His repeated touch —
would bring a counter jolt, each time
to re-bloom

Also the pattern of fall will have
its benefits:
called cascades by poets of lore.

And so, I dream —
as she decides to pin her skin to his
at various acupunctured sensations
called love.

The cup empty
The fingers dispersed

My porch smiles at the Banyan.


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