Avec Toi

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My regard of  raison d’être –
through windfall climbs
the strength of my look,
and your look incites
a section of pure mass to muscle.
For this steers desire
to newer extremities,
to a song modified
by urge gliding through rose.
Your arms as ropes of light,
as ropes of raging light
to tether we two in furious merge.
Its countenance contorts
to reveal interior rapture.
Now morning eddies
into fragrance,
carries its color
toward a flurry of skin
impelled to weep,
eyelashes wrapped in mascara,
alabaster blossoming
and gusting your blushing terrain.

-r. miller

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