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This morning I drew…

This morning I drew, as the bath ran,
my long body into shadow, feeling my
self delicious, as if laughter and desire
were weathers over lands to which we,
should we wish it, could quite simply
ride. Do not wear a cork again, to the
open bottle I said. In the cold of that
shade and the water I drank nearly a
sentence I stole while you passed me
off your tongue. Then my nakedness
rose high enough with the angled sun
for clothes to make less sense, and in
an act of madness which often we all
together do I stood, dressed, ate, and
stepped trailing dreamed-up puddles
slyly out the hilarious drunken door.

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